Childish Pranks
by Onesimus42
Summary: Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes are the victims of the young Crawley girls. Fluff and silliness
1. Chapter 1

**Sorry, I am just exorcising a plot bunny from "A Story of a Brooch", I just began to imagine how the 'girls' might have tried to sneak around and find out if Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes were involved with each other. Pretty much falls on the far side of fluffy.**

As much as she dreaded it, Elsie Hughes knew they were going to have to talk about this situation. Wanting to make sure they had plenty of time and privacy, she decided to wait until the end of the day. She listened until she heard his heavy, slightly weary tread on the back stairs and counted to ten before making her way to his pantry. He was just locking up the last of the silver when she stepped through the open door. He turned to smile at her and asked, "Are you off to bed then, Mrs. Hughes?"

Clearing her throat a little nervously, she said, "No; there's a little matter I believe we need to discuss."

"That sounds ominous," he said with a questioning frown, "perhaps we should sit down."

Smiling at him reassuringly, she said, "It's not that bad, I hope."

He indicated the remains of the evening's wine to her which looked to be just enough for two glasses. At her grateful nod, he poured them each a glass. After handing one to her, he waited until she had settled herself on the settee and then sank down gratefully into his armchair.

They sat together in companionable silence for a few minutes, sipping their wine and reflecting over the events of the day.

After a few moments of this enjoyable peace after the bustle of the day, she began, "I received a note this afternoon, and I would like your opinion on what to do about it."

"What sort of note?" he asked, interest increasing.

She drew a folded piece of paper from her pocket, and he rose to take it from her. He noticed that there were one or two ink blots on the page.

_Mrs. Huges_

_I think you are very pretty. Your hair is nice. I like your eyes, too._

_I love you_

_Mr. Carson_

He chuckled, "Apparently, I am not so besotted with you that I took the time to learn to spell your name correctly or to grace you with my Christian name."

Then, with a smile, he drew a similar note from his own pocket and handed it to her.

_Mr. Carson_

_I think you are very nice and tall. You are handsome. You have a nice voice, too._

_I love you_

_Mrs. Huges_

She laughed out loud, "And I must be so addle-pated with my overwhelming love for you that I have forgotten how to spell my own name."

Pretending to be offended, he said, "I don't know what you're laughing so hard about. I am rather tall, and I've been working on this voice for years."

They laughed together for a few moments and continued to sip their wine until Mr. Carson said, "I suspect we may be the victims of three little imps. They certainly seem to have been sneaking around a little more than usual, and I heard something suspiciously like giggling earlier today," he finished with raised eyebrows.

Smiling at him, she agreed, "I could certainly see Miss Mary doing something like this."

"Now, Mrs. Hughes, Miss Sybil is a little devious herself, and Miss Edith is certainly not completely innocent."

Clicking her tongue at him, she admonished, "Mr. Carson, Miss Sybil's only five years old. She couldn't have come up with something this silly on her own, and you know as well as I do that Miss Edith never takes the initiative in anything."

Smile fading just a little, he replied, "It's not that silly. After all, we're two adults, near enough in age, who work closely with each other and are good friends; I hope?" looking toward her with a questioning look. At her nod, he continued, "The girls just don't understand yet that not everyone has to be married like their parents."

Looking quickly away and then back, she said, "Yes; I'm sure that's all it is. The question remains: what should we do about it?"

"Why do we need to do anything about it?" he asked confused.

"Mr. Carson," she said seriously, "I don't really like to be the subject of a practical joke."

"Why do you think it has to be a practical joke?" he asked quietly.

Looking at him confused for a moment, she replied, "If it's not a practical joke, it's almost worse. That would mean that our employer's children…"

"Exactly, our employer's _children_ think that we are, we are…" he interrupted.

"infatuated with each other," she finished for him.

"Yes," he nodded, "Do you really think anyone would take this seriously?"

"No; I suppose not," she replied with a half smile.

"Mrs. _Huges_, I see this as a fairly harmless prank. Why does this upset you so much?"

"I suppose I just don't like to be laughed at," she said quietly.

Smiling at her a little bemused, "Firstly, they're children, and I don't think this is malicious. Secondly, I would take it as a compliment. Apparently they think that you are 'very pretty' or at least they think that I think… I'm sorry. I'm afraid this wine must have been a little stronger than I thought. My mind's a little fuzzy."

Standing, she said, "It probably has something to do with how little you ate at dinner. Take these to the scullery, and I'll fix you a sandwich."

"Yes; Mother," he replied standing and took her glass from her to carry both to the scullery while she went to the kitchen.

She brought the sandwich back to him in his pantry, and he sat down to eat it gratefully. After a few moments, he said, "I really don't think we should say anything to either the children or anyone else. Again, I think it's harmless, and I wouldn't want them to get into any trouble."

"I suppose not. If it doesn't get any worse than this, then at the very least, it will provide us with some amusement," she said with a grin.

He agreed with a small laugh.

After a few moments, he looked at her thoughtfully and said, "I do hope that you were able to realize right away that this was not from me."

Rolling her eyes at him she said, "Well, I would like to think you know how to spell my name after all this time."

He snorted, "That too. But I meant that I'd like to think that I could come up with something a little better than, 'I think you are very pretty.'"

"Oh really," she said more interested now, "And just what would you have written?"

He paused for a few moments. And she thought she might have over-stepped just a little.

Then looking at her a little more seriously, he said, "At the very least I would have written something like 'Your beauty surpasses what my words can express."

She stared at him in surprise and just a little breathless, so he continued, "Then I would have probably commented on your raven-colored tresses and something about drowning in the deep brown pools of your eyes."

Grinning at her gape-mouthed stare, he said, "You needn't look so surprised. I do read, you know. And I have at least attempted to 'woo' a woman or two before."

Deciding to take it for the joke it likely was, she laughed and after a moment he joined her.

_**Reviews are welcome. If you don't think it's too silly, I have an idea for where it might go.**_


	2. Chapter 2

A few days later Mrs. Hughes was passing Mr. Carson in the hall when he stopped her. After a quick glance for possible eavesdroppers, he bent so that he could speak quietly and said, "I believe, Mrs. _Huges_, that you may be the recipient of some chocolates in the next few days."

Looking at his smug smile suspiciously, she asked, "And just what would make you think that, Mr. Carson?"

"Well, I may, just by happenstance you understand, have mentioned in the hearing of three young ladies that you were particularly fond of chocolate and bemoaned the fact that it has been very long since you had any," he said grinning.

"Mr. Carson!" she whispered fiercely, "You didn't!"

He paused for just a moment to look very stern at a footman hurrying past.

"I did," grinning broadly again, "I also made sure to emphasize that you like them best with nuts." he added with raised eyebrows, rocking forward on the balls of his feet, hands behind his back.

She covered her mouth to stifle a laugh at his obvious glee.

"I seem to recall that you are particularly fond of them with nuts as well."

Nodding, he said, "There is that, too."

Catching his mood, she smiled up at him after glancing both ways to make sure no one else was near, "And just what would be the explanation that you, as my most ardent admirer, have not provided me with those chocolates?"

Grin fading just a little as he tried to appear mournful, he said, "Well, hopefully, they will take pity on me as being too destitute to provide you with these small tokens of my affection."

"Or cheap!" she scoffed.

"Frugal," he corrected with a raised finger.

"Very well, frugal, then," she agreed smiling, "Mr. Carson; that is just devious. Do you really think it's fair?"

"Of course, it's fair. I don't see why we shouldn't profit from this," he said smiling.

"We? Who said anything about we? They'll be my chocolates," she said in mock seriousness.

Looking slightly crestfallen, he said, "I had assumed that you might be generous enough to share your good fortune with me."

"Assumptions are dangerous where chocolate is concerned, Mr. Carson," she said very seriously and moved off with a small smile.

She noticed that over the next two days, Mr. Carson seemed to happen by her parlor just a little more often. Mrs. Hughes thought he was likely looking for the chocolates, and so each time she saw him she gave a small shake of her head. She started to think that the girls had probably forgotten about the chocolates or hadn't taken his hint. Then, coming downstairs one day after her usual mid-morning meeting with Lady Grantham, she opened her door to find a prettily wrapped box on her desk. She'd barely made it over to her desk when she heard a knock. Not wanting just anyone to see her gift, she opened her door a tiny crack and then wider as she saw who it was.

Coming into the room, Mr. Carson said, "I saw the girls down this way earlier. Did you receive any deliveries?"

Raising her eyebrows at him, she said, "You're certainly eager, Mr. Carson. I only just returned myself. I haven't even had a chance to open my package."

"Ahhh; so you did receive something then?"

"See for yourself," she beckoned him over to her desk.

Picking up the box to get a good look, he said, "They do have good taste. This is certainly a nice looking package."

"But it may not be chocolates," she warned.

"Open it and we'll find out," he urged.

Giving him a stern look, she said, "I thought I might wait until after dinner," then had to bite her lip not to laugh at his disappointed look, "You're much more excited about this than I am. You're like a little boy on Christmas morning."

"Well, it is _chocolate_, Mrs. Hughes," he said seriously.

Finally letting her laugh loose, she said, "It _might_ be chocolate. Goodness, I never knew you had such a sweet tooth."

Taking the box from him, she started to untie the ribbon and a note fell out. Stopping for a moment, to his exasperation she noticed with a smile, she picked up the note. "Well, their penmanship has improved just a little," she commented as she looked at the note printed in a childish block.

_Mrs. Huges_

_I love you. I hope you like the chocolate._

_Love _

_Mr. Carson_

"They're certainly straight-forward and to the point," he commented wryly reading the note over her shoulder.

She snorted, "And definitely not wanting in sentiment; two 'loves' in ten words."

"Now, Mrs. Huges, you shouldn't mock your secret admirer," he admonished.

"My secret admirer?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

"Your giggling, three-headed, secret admirer."

Pointing at his chest, she said, "You, Mr. Charles Carson, butler of Downton Abbey," deepening her voice as she said his name, "should not be encouraging this."

Biting back his own smile, he said, "I still fail to see why we should not benefit from this."

"Firstly, we do not know yet if it is chocolate. Secondly, the girls should not be spending money to give me gifts. And thirdly, I still haven't decided if I'm going to share, so _we_ may not benefit from this at all," she finished haughtily.

Looking at her a little sternly, he said, "Firstly, we don't know because you're being frustratingly slow about opening it. Secondly, all the girls have to do is ask their father for something, and they have it, so I don't think you should feel too guilty about that. And thirdly, it is not in your nature to be selfish, so I'm sure you will share."

"Do you believe you know me so well then?" she asked, "I might be the most selfish creature in nature."

Rolling his eyes, he said seriously, "Elsie Hughes, I have known you for almost nine years now and have considered you my dear friend for most of that time. I should think by now I know you. Again, I say you are the most unselfish woman I have ever known."

She smiled and looked away at the earnestness in his eyes and voice.

Then he continued, "You are, however, a terrible tease. Will you please open your package?" pointing to the package on the last three words to emphasize his point.

Smiling down at the package, she finished untying the ribbon and lifted the lid to find that it was indeed chocolates.

"With nuts!" he said triumphantly.

She sighed, "They are my favorite."

"I know," he said with a smile and raised eyebrows.

She took one and offered the box to him. He watched her for a moment as she enjoyed her chocolate. Just before taking the first bite of his, he said, "I knew you'd share. You'd never keep all these lovely chocolates to yourself."

Smiling at his pleasure in the chocolate, she said, "Of course, we mustn't let anyone else know. They might think that I really have a secret admirer."

"Wise woman," he nodded, "We'll just have to keep these to ourselves."

Laughing, she took another chocolate, thinking to herself that it was rather nice to have a secret admirer.

_**Reviews are welcome and feed my addiction, which is not quite as bad as Charles' chocolate addiction, I hope.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**I realize that this chapter is highly improbable. However, I will try to make up for it by being amusing. This is just a short chapter to set up the girls' continued scheming. **_

Several days later, Mr. Carson found himself in the library after breakfast, listening to Lord Grantham try to work himself out of a quandary. The governess had been given the day off to visit her sister and more importantly her sister's new baby in Ripon. She was not expected back until just before the girls' dinner. Ordinarily this would not have been a problem, but Lady Grantham was already engaged for luncheon and Lord Grantham had promised to take the girls on a picnic and to view the ruins of an old church. The quandary was that Lord Grantham had looked at his diary wrong and was already engaged for luncheon himself at a neighbor's home to discuss new farming methods. His daughters were naturally very disappointed and were just as naturally making Lord Grantham feel very guilty.

Mr. Carson could certainly sympathize with their disappointment. He knew the walk to the ruins, and it would be lovely on a pleasantly crisp early autumn day like today. Only half listening to the conversation, he found himself wondering if he could perhaps convince Mrs. Hughes to take a walk with him after their luncheon. His reverie was interrupted by hearing Miss Mary say his name. While he managed to keep his jaw from dropping, he did blink once when he heard her say, "I'm sure Mr. Carson would not mind taking us for our walk."

Then he blinked again as Miss Sybil interjected, "And picnic!"

Miss Mary then glanced at Miss Edith who quickly joined in, "Perhaps Mrs. Hughes could come too."

He was ashamed to say that he blinked twice at that. Then, he knew he was lost when his Lordship addressed him with a hesitant smile.

Walking downstairs in search of Mrs. Hughes, he had to admit that his head was still spinning with the deftness of the maneuver. Smiling, he thought that Miss Mary was going to be a formidable Countess someday. Somehow, three children whose collective ages were less than half his own had manipulated both his Lordship and himself into doing exactly what they wanted. The fact that in this particular case it was also what he wanted was beside the point. Hopefully, Mrs. Hughes would agree.

Walking through the open door of her parlor, he paused for a moment to watch her bent over at her desk clearly working hard. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Mrs. Hughes, I wonder if I might make a request of you?"

Turning slightly in her chair, she smiled at him and beckoned him closer, "What can I do for you?"

Walking over he stood a little uncomfortably beside her desk and paused as he tried to find the right words, "Would you go for a picnic with me?"

Seeing her look of astonishment as she turned over her ink well which he quickly righted, he realized that those were obviously not the right words.

"I'm sorry," he said smiling gently, "I didn't mean just with me. We would be taking the girls. I'm afraid the imps have out-maneuvered me."

He went on to explain the morning's conversation and was pleased to see that her look of astonishment changed to one of understanding and then outright amusement.

"Serves you right, Mr. Carson," she said through her laughter, "thinking that you could out scheme three girls. Are you sure that you didn't do anything to encourage them?"

"I beg your pardon," he answered, offended, "I was just standing there butlering…"

"Butlering?" she asked incredulously, "Is that a word?"

"Of course it's a word, it refers to standing patiently while being slightly less conspicuous than wallpaper."

"Well, you didn't do too good of a job of it this morning," she said wryly, "The girls certainly noticed you."

"Thank you for pointing out that humiliating fact. I'm glad to have provided you with your morning's amusement, Mrs. Hughes," he said with mock stiffness, "but you haven't answered my question."

"If my employer wants me to accompany his daughters on a picnic, I wasn't aware that I had a choice in the matter," she said smiling.

"No; his Lordship was quite clear that you were not to be bothered if you were too busy," he said, "That consideration does not extend to me obviously. I'm to be thrown to the gaggle of giggling girls no matter what."

Nodding appreciatively at his alliteration, she clarified, "So I've not actually been instructed to go?"

"Well, no," he replied, "but I would take it as a great personal favor if you would save me."

"Save you?" she laughed, "Surely three little girls couldn't do you any permanent harm."

At his level look, she said, "Well, not that much harm."

Nodding his agreement, he said, "Not to press, but you do need to make a decision this morning."

"Mr. Carson, I always have plenty to do, as do you I'm sure," she said, "but with no one here for luncheon surely we can find the time to take three little girls on a picnic. Besides, you said yourself that we should profit from their scheming. It's a beautiful day, and I'm sure it will be a pleasant walk and will be with pleasant company."

Pausing to look at her for just a moment, he thought he detected the faintest of blushes. Smiling at her with genuine pleasure, he said, "Will you make sure the girls get ready while I sort out the provisions?"

She nodded and they each went off to their respective tasks.

When they met three quarters of an hour later, Mrs. Hughes had the girls in tow, and he was happy to see that she was wearing a light-colored blouse with tiny flowers. He had changed from his uniform into an ordinary suit as well. Smiling, he held the door for the ladies and followed them out putting his hat on his head and grabbing the basket. He thought this might turn out to be a pleasant day, after all.

_**Reviews are welcome.**_


	4. Chapter 4

It was indeed a pleasant day for a walk, Mr. Carson noted as they started off on the path that led to the ruins. The temperature was nearly perfect, and the air was clear and crisp. The walk was a short one, just over half a mile and on fairly level ground. There was a stream that meandered across the path, and he had to admit that he was looking forward to helping Mrs. Hughes across it. Miss Edith and Miss Sybil were chattering excitedly and asking so many questions he could barely keep up, but thankfully Mrs. Hughes supplied the lack. He noticed that Miss Mary would occasionally ask a question but seemed to be trying hard to be dignified.

Turning his attention back to the girls, he heard them ask a question about picking berries.

Mrs. Hughes answered, "Well, it is a bit late, but there are some raspberries that bear around this time, and I must admit I hope we find some. Raspberries are my favorite."

Mr. Carson took care to check that fact against the list he'd formed over the years of Elsie Hughes' likes and dislikes. The girls started to move forward after that and soon they were about ten paces ahead.

Mrs. Hughes turned to him with a smile, "The girls are certainly excited, aren't they?"

"Yes; although Miss Mary is trying hard not to show it," he nodded a little sadly.

"She's trying so hard to act grown up," Mrs. Hughes agreed.

"She will be soon enough. It's hard to believe that you came to Downton not long after she was born."

"And now she is scheming to enhance my love life," Mrs. Hughes agreed wryly.

He noticed then that three sets of eyes were turning back frequently to watch Mrs. Hughes and himself.

Nodding toward them, he looked down at her with a small smile, "Do you suppose they think they'll catch us in a passionate embrace if they look back here enough?"

She laughed out loud, and three heads turned sharply around. Getting control of herself enough to look at them very sternly, she waited until they looked away.

"I think that catching us holding hands would probably satisfy them. They probably can't imagine anything more passionate than that."

There was a brief pause before he asked, "Do you think we should play to the crowd a little?"

"You want to hold my hand? Don't you think that would be flirting with disaster?"

"No; I think that would be flirting with you," he said with a grin, "I was thinking more along the lines of helping you across the streams and maybe a lingering glance or two. Nothing that couldn't be seen in several ways; we couldn't control their interpretation."

She stifled a laugh at his joke, and said, "Do you think that would be wise? What if they said something to their parents?"

"They would tell their parents that I held your hand to help you across a stream and looked at you. It sounds rather tame to me," he reasoned, "Besides, I have the benefit of a good reputation. I might as well take advantage of it now."

"You have the benefit of a good reputation because you are a good man, Mr. Carson," she said seriously, "But I see your point. It does seem that we should reward the master manipulators just a little."

Smiling at her compliment, he looked up to see that the girls had come upon the stream crossing. It would be easy for him to cross, but a little difficult to manage for someone wearing skirts. Handing Mrs. Hughes the basket, he crossed and then turned around to lift first Miss Mary and then Miss Edith across. He delighted Miss Sybil by lifting her across with a little twirl. Then, taking the basket from Mrs. Hughes, he set it at the girls' feet. Turning back to her, he was aware of three sets of hopeful eyes watching them carefully. Looking at Mrs. Hughes with a quirked eyebrow, he was pleased to see her small nod and mischievous smile. Putting his hands on her waist, he lifted her across the stream and held her for just a moment longer than necessary. She stumbled a little and caught herself with her hands on his upper arms.

When he'd released her and turned around, he noticed Miss Mary's triumphant smile at Miss Edith and heard Miss Sybil's giggles. He waited for a moment for the girls and Mrs. Hughes to start down the path. Picking up the basket, he thought that he might be flirting with disaster after all.

They'd only gone a few more paces when he saw the girls had stopped and were looking into the hedgerow. "Are those raspberries, Mrs. Hughes?" Miss Edith asked.

"Yes, they are, but I'm afraid there are too many brambles over there," she answered, "Your dresses might get ruined if I let you over there."

"Could you pick them, Mr. Carson?" Miss Sybil asked eagerly.

Miss Mary looked at him seriously, "They are Mrs. Hughes' favorite."

Head spinning again with the one-two punch he'd just received, he was soon making his way carefully through brambles to pick a couple of handfuls of raspberries. Once he had his handkerchief full, he made his way back to Mrs. Hughes who put a few in her own handkerchief and handed his nearly full handkerchief to the girls who quickly moved off to enjoy them.

Looking at her a little exasperated as he picked cockleburs off his trousers, he said, "You had to mention they were your favorites, didn't you?"

"Turn around, there are a few on the back," she instructed and said, "You didn't have to pick them. You just can't disappoint them, can you?"

"Well, I couldn't have them thinking that a few brambles were going to get in the way of making you happy, could I?" he said as he contorted himself to see the cockleburs on the back of his legs.

Mrs. Hughes bent down to pick off the last few, "I have to admit that they work together very effectively. When they're a bit older, they'll be positively dangerous."

He snorted and said, "Eat your berries."

Smiling up at him she ate one and closed her eyes in pleasure. When she opened them, he was staring at her curiously. She blushed and said, "These are probably the last we'll get this year, and I do love raspberries."

"Then a few scratches were worth it," he said seriously as he took a raspberry for himself.

They had finished the raspberries by the time they reached the next crossing of the stream. This one was just a little wider and had a log across it to be used as a footbridge. Mr. Carson again stepped across to the other side so that he could assist the girls. Holding each girls hand as they walked across, he again delighted Lady Sybil by lifting her off at the end with a little twirl. Mrs. Hughes handed him the basket and started to walk across before he could turn around to help.

"Be careful, Mrs. Hughes," he warned, "It's very slippery."

His voice rose just a little on the last word as he noticed that she indeed began to slip. Before he even thought, he had stepped into the stream with one foot and had his arm wrapped firmly around her waist to keep her from falling. Once she was steady, he took her hand to guide her across and placed his other hand at the small of her back. Turning back to the girls once he'd caught his breath, he noticed three very satisfied smiles.

The path opened at this point, and the ruins could be seen at the top of a small hill across a field. The girls quickly fanned across the field and headed to the ruins. Looking down at Mrs. Hughes, he smiled and said, "That was a bit more than I intended."

Looking at him a little abashed, she said, "Surely you don't think I did that on purpose."

"Of course not," he said smiling, "but it certainly made the imps happy."

"Is your foot very wet?"

"Not very," he replied dryly, "It probably won't kill me. I'll just lose my foot to frostbite."

"Well, that's alright then," she smiled, "it seems that I'm more likely to cause you permanent damage than the girls."

"Well, at least I'll die happy," he grinned, "and full," he indicated the basket, "I made sure that a very good lunch was packed. Let's go up and eat."

"Is there chocolate?" she asked.

"You'll just have to be patient," he said smugly.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Again, I realize that this is all highly improbable but hopefully still amusing.**_

At Mrs. Hughes insistence, he supervised the girls while she unpacked the luncheon. She was very worried that one of the girls would decide to 'explore' just a little too much and get hurt. He walked around the ruins with them and held them each up over a broken down wall so that they could see the inside. They had lots of questions that he did not know the answers to. While he thought it an interesting structure, to them it was a fascinating mystery. They wanted to know about the people who'd worshipped there and what the services had been like. He had no idea and had to confess as much to them. Miss Sybil seemed to think that it had likely been in use when he was a boy.

Miss Mary admonished her, "He's not as old as grandmamma, Sybil."

He'd bit the inside of his jaw at her comment and was very happy Mrs. Hughes had not heard it as he doubted she could have avoided chortling.

Mrs. Hughes did hear Miss Sybil's next question, however, as she came up to tell them that luncheon was ready.

"Are you very old, Mr. Carson?"

He paused for a moment wondering just how to answer and was saved by a clearly amused Mrs. Hughes, "What do you think is very old, Miss Sybil?"

Thinking for a moment she said decisively, "33"

"Then both Mr. Carson and myself are very old," Mrs. Hughes replied seriously with an amused glance at Mr. Carson, "Now, who would like to eat?"

The girls made their way over to the picnic blanket quickly and he bent down to speak quietly next to her ear, "See, I told you you would save me."

"The day is not over yet, Mr. Carson."

Mrs. Hughes and he sat on the bottom step of the church while the girls sat on the picnic blanket.

They had cold chicken and candied carrots with a nice apple tart for desert along with a good cheddar. There was milk that had been kept cold in a crockery jug for all of them, although he wished he'd packed a bottle of stout for himself. Once they'd eaten their fill, the girls began their relentless quizzing again.

Miss Edith began, "Do you think many people got married here?"

"I'm sure that this church saw its fair share of weddings and funerals, too," he replied cautiously, not liking the direction this was taking.

"At the altar?" Miss Mary asked.

Mrs. Hughes interjected an unfortunate piece of information here, "No; in those days most people were married on the church steps so that the whole village could see. It's still the custom in some small towns, mine was one."

It was Miss Edith who made the observation, "You mean where you and Mr. Carson are sitting?"

Glancing sideways at Mrs. Hughes, he was impressed with her composure since he felt like jumping up immediately. She finished chewing her bite of apple tart and said, "Yes, that's right; would you girls like one of the biscuits Mr. Carson was nice enough to pack."

Once the girls had each had a biscuit, they decided to look for wildflowers in the field while Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes packed up the remains of luncheon. When they'd moved out of earshot, she rounded on him, "You couldn't have saved me?"

"You certainly picked a poor time to enlarge their education. Really, you should have seen that one coming," he said wryly.

Her retort was cut off by Miss Sybil running up and tugging at his hand, gesturing for him to bend down for a question. She whispered her question in his ear, and he looked over at Mrs. Hughes before answering with a smile.

Straightening, he picked up the blanket while Mrs. Hughes grasped the other side. They folded it together, and placed it on top of the other provisions in the basket.

"You misled me," she said, "I thought you would bring chocolate."

"Would you have had me break into your parlor for it?" he asked, "Besides, I thought we agreed that those were for private consumption, certainly not to share with the imps."

Casting a wry grin up at him as she sat down on the step to watch the girls, she said, "I wouldn't put it past you to break in anywhere when chocolate is at stake, and I thought it might be fun to see their reaction when I offered them a piece of their own chocolate."

His shoulders shifted a little uncomfortably before he sat down at her side watching the girls over her shoulder and said lightly, "Now, Mrs. Hughes, I'm not completely proud of my past, but I was never a thief."

Turning around curiously, she asked, "Why aren't you proud of your past? You've been at Downton since you were a boy, haven't you?"

His eyes shifted away from hers for a moment before looking back, "No; I came here when I was a boy, but I left when I was about 16 to 'find my fortune'."

"And you didn't? Find your fortune, I mean," she asked a little sadly.

He smiled briefly, "I came back at 20 very hungry and was given a job for which I was very grateful. I suppose you could say I found my fortune here," he finished looking at her seriously before turning back to watch the girls.

She watched the girls for a few more minutes before saying, "Isn't it strange to think of all the nervous grooms and blushing brides that likely stood here pledging themselves to each other?"

Looking at her sharply, he said, "Yes; it is," then in an attempt to change the subject, "I wonder why we always refer to brides as 'blushing'."

"Well," she said looking back at him over her shoulder, "they're probably thinking of the after."

"After?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"After the ceremony is over and all the guests have gone home, when they'll be alone," she continued still looking at the girls, "Now, the real question as far as I'm concerned is why all those grooms are nervous."

"They're probably nervously wondering if the blushing bride really loves them and if they can care for them and make them happy," he said and then continued with a smile, "and about the after as well, I'd imagine."

"Why would they wonder if the bride really loves them?" she asked still not turning to look at him.

"Well, sometimes it's hard to know," he said looking over her shoulder at the girls, "maybe all the things he's interpreted as signs of love have just been friendship. One doesn't want to break up a good friendship by imagining that there's something else there."

Looking down at her lap, she asked, "How would one of those blushing brides make her groom less nervous?"

He cleared his throat, and said, "I suppose she would let him know by the way she looked at him, smiled at him, laughed at his jokes even when they're not particularly funny, touched him, said his name. I'm sure there are many ways."

She laid her hand on his knee and said just one word, "Charles"

He covered her hand with his own and began, "Elsie, I—"

They were thankfully warned by the girls' laughter as they came running up the hill toward them, hands now full of wildflowers. Charles stood quickly and walked toward them, pulling his watch out. "Have you all the flowers you want? We should probably be getting back so you girls can get ready for dinner."

Shaking his head ruefully, he turned back to see that Elsie had stood as well to gather up the basket. He had known these girls since the day they'd been born and loved them almost as much as if they were his own, but at that moment he would have gladly chucked each of them in the stream.

_**Reviews are always welcome. (By the way, Charles would never throw any children in a stream, and I would certainly not advocate it. He's just a little frustrated. Please forgive him.)**_


	6. Chapter 6

Charles quickly repented of his wish to throw all three of the girls in the stream. Miss Sybil handed Elsie a lovely bouquet of mostly Michelmas daisies. Her smile at receiving the flowers was almost worth the interruption, almost but not quite. He decided that Miss Sybil at least could avoid a dunking.

"Thank you, Miss Sybil;" she said seriously, "these are my favorite."

"I know," she said smugly, "Mr. Carson said. He said you were pretty, too."

Looking at Miss Sybil grimly, Charles thought maybe she deserved a dunking after all. Before he could say anything, both Miss Edith and Miss Mary exclaimed, "Sybil!"

"Well, I said she was pretty, and he didn't say she wasn't," Sybil said defensively.

"What did you expect him to say?" Miss Mary admonished in a harsh whisper, "That she looked like a toad."

Miss Edith joined in, "You really must learn to control your tongue. Who knows what trouble you'll get in?"

Glancing over at Elsie desperate for a little help, he noticed that she was trying hard not to laugh. She was certainly not going to be of any use in this situation.

"Girls, we really need to get back," he interrupted, "You need to get ready for dinner, and I need to make sure the dining room is ready for your parents."

Elsie finally got her mirth under control, "It's also getting a little chilly. If we get back in time, you can have a little tea in my parlor to warm you."

The prospect of a grown up tea in the housekeeper's parlor excited the girls, and they headed off down the path at a quicker pace.

Turning to take the basket from Elsie, he said, "Thank you for finally deciding to be helpful."

Looking at him with a quirked eyebrow, she replied, "I rather think you brought that on yourself; having a little girl pick flowers for you."

"She asked me what your favorites were," he said defensively, "I merely informed her. I was busy while she was picking them."

"Busy?"

"Discussing nervous grooms and blushing brides."

Blushing a little herself, she said, "Well, thank you for knowing what my favorites are."

Looking at her seriously, he said, "We need to finish our talk."

"We do," she nodded, "but if we don't catch up with the girls, they may fall off that bridge."

He strode quickly down the path, and she was only a few paces behind. No matter how much he might wish to dunk them, he certainly wouldn't want any of them to actually get wet. The girls had just arrived at the bridge, and he helped all three over as before. This time Elsie waited for him, and he unfortunately was only able to hold her hand as she walked across.

They and the girls walked together a little quicker on the way back, because Elsie had been right; it was getting cool enough to be a little uncomfortable. After a few moments, she tapped him on the arm and pointed down at Miss Sybil who seemed to be lagging a little. Handing Elsie the basket, he picked the little imp up to carry her the rest of the way. She promptly fell asleep on his shoulder. The rest of the walk was uneventful, and they negotiated the second stream crossing awkwardly but with no wet girls.

When they arrived back at the house, Elsie took the two older girls to her parlor while he started up the steps with the still sleeping Miss Sybil. She woke when he was on about the third step and yawned, "I want to have tea, too."

Seeing that she was wide awake now, he carried her back to Elsie's parlor**. "**She's woken up. You'll have one more for tea, two more if you don't mind me checking to see that Joseph is setting the table properly."

Joseph had the table nearly set, and he only had to admonish him enough to keep him humble. Returning to Elsie's parlor, he saw that she was just starting to pour out the tea. He smiled as he noticed the varying proportions; Miss Mary had about half tea and half milk, Miss Edith about three quarters milk to one quarter tea, and Miss Sybil was having tea flavored milk. Charles carried the cups from the sideboard where she was pouring them to the table and promptly put two cubes of sugar in everyone's cup except Mrs. Hughes' which only received one. With a wink at Miss Sybil, he gave her an extra one.

"Why does Mrs. Hughes only get one, Mr. Carson?" Miss Edith asked.

"Because, Mrs. Hughes doesn't like things to be too sweet," he said with raised eyebrows.

"Except chocolate, of course," Elsie said with a smile in her voice where she was busy at the sideboard.

Then, disaster struck in the form of Miss Sybil, "Do you like chocolate, Mrs. Hughes?"

Before he could speak, Miss Mary jumped in, "What kind is your favorite? Mine is with nougat."

Elsie became very quiet which he knew meant he was likely in mortal danger. She turned toward the girls and said, "I like them best with nuts."

"That's nice," Miss Edith said, "Chocolate makes me sneeze."

Elsie looked at each girl carefully, and he could see realization dawning. She then fixed him with a glare that made him actually want to check to see if there was blood running down his face. He knew that she now knew the girls had nothing to do with her chocolate. Watching her carefully to ensure that she didn't have anything too heavy near at hand to throw at him, he decided that his best recourse would be to leave before the girls did. He didn't think that she would actually be violent with children present.

Clearing his throat, he said, "Well, I'm very sorry for you Miss Edith. I apologize for leaving so quickly, but I need to hurry upstairs to make sure everything is in order. Thank you, ladies, for a lovely afternoon. Thank you for tea, Mrs. Hughes." With a small bow, he escaped.

Heading upstairs to change back into his uniform, he shook his head at his own stupidity. How could he have thought she wouldn't find out? He should have known the imps would let the secret out if they were around her long enough. He wished he'd dunked them when he had the chance. Now, he would have to explain himself to Elsie. Hopefully, this wouldn't cause a retreat. This afternoon had been lovely. He had almost been able to pretend that they were really a couple, maybe watching their nieces for an afternoon. Their discussion on the steps had given him hope that maybe she wanted more, too. Thinking back to their discussion, he thought about how close he'd been to telling her everything. Now, he wouldn't be able to get her alone until after dinner. Judging by the look on her face, he should probably wait until everyone else was in bed as well. If only those silly girls had given him five more minutes, two more minutes even. How long does it take to tell someone you love her? Chuckling to himself, he thought, "_Nine years, obviously."_

_**Reviews are always welcome.**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Just a wee bit of angst, but the 'girls' won't let it go on for too long. **

Charles was glad that it was just Lord and Lady Grantham and the Dowager Countess for dinner that night. It meant that he wouldn't have to spend too much time upstairs. Lord Grantham would go through fairly quickly to sit with the ladies in the drawing room, not wanting his wife and mother to spend too much time alone. Unfortunately, any time that Lady Grantham and the Dowager Countess were alone together was a chilly affair. For once, Charles found dinner in the servant's hall to be even chillier. He nearly had frostbite after sitting next to Elsie through three courses. She was polite enough to him, but there was certainly no pleasant conversation.

Catching her alone for a moment in the china closet, he made his first attempt, "Elsie, I need to explain…"

"Mr. Carson, I assure you that I understand the situation perfectly," she said stiffly, "there's no need for you to explain anything."

"Obviously there is," he said wryly, "if you've reverted to Mr. Carson."

Looking down quickly, she said, "I just think it would be best if we stayed strictly professional with each other."

Crestfallen, he found himself speechless at the thought. She took the opportunity to leave.

Once he'd seen Lady Violet into her carriage, Lord and Lady Grantham retired early. He supposed so that his Lordship could soothe his wife's bruised feelings. He made his rounds to ensure that the house was secure, all the fires were banked, and lights extinguished. Descending the steps to the servant's hall, he hoped that Elsie would give him a chance to explain. Seeing a light under her parlor door, he felt just a smidgen of hope. He hesitated for a moment over what to do. This was either going to be a very short conversation likely ending with bruises somewhere on his person, or he hoped it would be a very long conversation. Deciding to be positive, he went quickly to his pantry to lock up the silver in anticipation of a long conversation. Returning to her parlor, he was disappointed to see that the light was out. She must have been listening for him and went upstairs after he'd come down. Walking back wearily to his pantry, he slumped down in his armchair and thought of what a colossal mess he'd made of things.

The next two days and nights were no better. Elsie was coldly polite and formal. He tried to find the opportunity to speak with her alone, but she avoided any chance contact with him and retired early each evening. The staff of course noticed that their former ease with each other was gone. They likely thought they were arguing over some household matter. Charles understood why she was angry or at least he thought he understood, but he couldn't understand why she would not at least allow him to explain himself. This situation was what he'd feared would happen. It was the reason that he'd never attempted to deepen their relationship before. He valued her friendship enough that he was willing to forgo the romantic relationship he had always wanted, until they'd gotten those blasted notes that is.

The third day following their picnic found him sitting in his pantry working over accounts. He could see no way to clear up this situation if she would not at least allow him to talk to her. As much as he would like to corner her and force her to listen to him, it was against his nature to do so and also exceedingly difficult in a place where privacy was very hard to come by. He was surprised by a light knock at his door and looked up to see Miss Mary standing in the doorway. Standing quickly, he beckoned her to enter, "Miss Mary, what are you doing here? You should have rang if you needed anything."

She smiled a little nervously and looked down at her hands, "We came down to get some food from Mrs. Patmore. Miss Jenkins said we could. Sybil wants to pretend we're going on an expedition. We've got to pack provisions."

Quirking his eyebrow at her, he asked, "An expedition?"

She rolled her eyes at him a little and smiled, "Just in our rooms upstairs. I think she and Miss Jenkins are hiding things for us to find."

Smiling back at her, "Well, it's very kind of you and Miss Edith to play along. Did you come here because you need my help in packing?"

"No; I—"she began, "that is-, we wondered if you and Mrs. Hughes are cross with each other?"

His smile tightened just a little, "Why would you think that?"

"Well, you aren't talking to each other like you usually do, and she seems to be a little sad."

Clearing his throat, he said gently, "You have it partially right. She is a little cross with me, but don't worry yourselves about it, we'll sort it out given time."

"Why is she cross with you?" she asked.

"Because I've done something that unintentionally offended her," he said shifting his shoulders, and then in an attempt to end this uncomfortable discussion, "Shouldn't you be getting along to your 'expedition'?"

Unwilling to let this go, she asked curiously, "Why don't you just apologize to her?"

This was really becoming too much. Clenching his jaw, Charles answered tightly, "At the moment, Mrs. Hughes is cross enough with me that she won't talk to me. Now, really, Miss Mary, I am quite busy, and …"

"Mr. Carson, I'm very sorry if we caused trouble for you," she said with her head down, "We only thought that, well, you liked each other, and it would be nice…"

Anger softening, he thought, "_Poor girls, they think they've caused this."_ Then he said, "Miss Mary, you girls had nothing to do with our disagreement. Although, perhaps you shouldn't send any more notes to Mrs. Hughes or myself," he finished with a small smile and raised eyebrows.

Looking up at him gratefully, she said, "We won't cause any more trouble for you, and we won't try anymore to find anything out. I promise we'll leave you alone. I'll take care of Edith, but I can't make any promises about Sybil."

He chuckled, "I doubt anyone can 'take care' of Miss Sybil. Now, go along and sort out your provisions. I believe I know where there is an old spyglass in the attic that might help you on your 'expedition'."

Smiling she turned toward the door and then paused, turning back to him, "Mr. Carson, just one more thing. It certainly seems you know a lot about Mrs. Hughes' likes and dislikes."

He nodded his agreement, a little confused.

"Maybe you should tell her about that instead of us," she said and then walked out the door.

Watching her for a moment before he went off in search of the spyglass, he shook his head with a smile. She _was_ going to make a formidable countess one day.

_**Reviews are always welcome.**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Again, improbably improbable, but sweet enough to cause tooth decay.**_

Looking down at the note in his hand, Charles felt all the frustration of the past week quickly turn to anger, and he was angrier than he had been in a long time. She had promised him that they would stay out of this. His job description did not include being the victim of three little girls' practical jokes. He thought he might just have to speak to his Lordship. Although in reality, he knew he couldn't. Informing his Lordship might also lead to some uncomfortable questions about his relationship with the housekeeper. Crumpling the note in his hand, he decided that he would keep the appointment with Mrs. 'Huges'. The imps would likely be in the vicinity to laugh at him, and he was ready to give them a good lecture on the appropriate treatment of others, as well as keeping promises he thought grimly.

Removing his uniform jacket, he pulled on an old gray jacket and overcoat. Stuffing the note angrily into the pocket of his overcoat, he opened the door firmly, put his bowler on his head and walked grimly across the lawn to the beginning of the path to the ruins. He found himself striding forcefully with head down forming the scolding he was going to give the girls in his mind. It was well past time that they gave up this little game, and he was going to see that they did. Looking up as he approached the path, he stopped slightly shocked when he recognized the figure that was standing there.

"Elsie, what are you doing here?" he asked surprised at her presence.

"I could ask you the same question, Mr. Carson," she said emphasizing his name.

Looking at her curiously, he explained, "I received a note from 'Mrs. Huges' asking me to meet here. I decided to come on the chance that I could find the girls and warn them to stop their little game. I suppose they tricked you into coming out here too?"

"The girls are not the only ones who have been playing games these last few weeks, Mr. Carson," she replied stiffly.

"Elsie, I have not been playing games with you," he said tightly and then pleaded, "Will you please give me a quarter hour of your time to explain things to you?" when she started to speak, he said, "Surely nine years of friendship is worth that. Besides, if we walk along the path a little way, then you could yell at me to your heart's content and no one will hear," he finished with a small smile.

Relenting with a small nod, she started down the path with her arms wrapped around herself.

Clearing his throat, he began, "First, let me apologize for deceiving you about the chocolate. I did it for a very selfish reason."

Laughing a little bitterly, she said, "I know. You wanted to have a good laugh at me. I told you I didn't like the idea of being laughed at."

"Is that what you thought?" he asked genuinely surprised, "Elsie, please believe me when I tell you that I did not laugh at you. That was never my intention."

Looking at him seriously for a few moments, she nodded indicating that she believed him and relaxed a little letting her arms drop to her sides.

"My selfish reason," he continued as they walked down the path, "was that I wanted to see you smile, and I wanted to be the one who caused it."

He heard her small gasp and the pause in her step, "But why the deceit about the children sending them?"

"Because I couldn't send them to you openly," he said, "I have wanted to do something like that for a long time, but I was afraid that doing it would jeopardize our friendship. If you'd have let me talk to you these past few days, I could have explained that to you," he admonished.

"I'm sorry about that, but I've had my reasons," she said, "it wasn't just about being angry at you."

Looking at her carefully, he saw that she was not going to elaborate so he said with a small smile, "I've actually been bringing you chocolates for nine years. You've just never fully enjoyed them."

At her questioning look, he explained, "You know the chocolates I bring back from London each year for the staff?" seeing her small nod, he continued, "Those are really for you. When you first came to Downton, I found myself infatuated with you. I spent that season in London thinking about you. Before I'd even thought, I bought you a box of chocolates. On the train, I realized how stupid that was, so I pretended they were for the whole staff. I watched as you ate just one. You seemed so happy that I decided that I would always bring chocolates back 'for the staff'. You always eat just one; I wanted you to have a whole box for yourself."

By this time, they had reached the first stream crossing, and Charles offered his hand. When Elsie initially refused him, he said, "Elsie, I realize that I have been a very stupid man, and it would certainly teach me a lesson if you fell in the water and caught a cold, but I'd rather you didn't."

She laughed despite herself and nodded, taking his hand to steady her as she stepped across the stream.

Continuing down the path walking closer to him now so that his hand occasionally brushed her sleeve and hers his overcoat, she asked her shoes, "If you've been infatuated with me all this time, why have you never done anything about it?"

"Because I haven't been, I suppose," he said and then continued hurriedly, "That is, I've admired you, respected you, valued you very highly as a friend, and even loved you," then he frowned, " It's just very difficult. If I attempted to have a romantic relationship with you and it failed, what would we do? It would have been very awkward trying to work together, I imagine, maybe even to the point of one of us thinking we should leave. I couldn't bear the thought of not seeing you every day. So, I quashed those romantic feelings and tried to content myself with being your friend. No matter how much I wanted a romantic relationship with you, I just could never bring myself to risk our friendship."

"And now?" she asked quietly eyebrows knitted together in thought.

"And now," he said looking over at her, "I'm willing to risk it. When you said that the idea of us loving each other was silly, I found myself a little upset. After that night, I knew that I wanted more. I wanted, for instance, to be able to see that little wrinkle of concern between your brows and smooth it away."

"I see," she answered wrinkle dissipating as she smiled up at him.

By this time, they'd reached the second stream crossing, and she didn't hesitate to take his offered hand. Leaving her hand in his when she was across, she gave it a small squeeze. He smiled down at her and drew her arm through his own.

Walking up the hill toward the ruins of the small church, he cleared his throat and asked, "And you?"

"Charles," and he drew her arm closer at her use of his first name, "the reason that I've avoided you this week was partially out of anger but mostly because I thought you would want to tell me that you just wanted to be friends. I just couldn't face that conversation right away. I don't want-; I can't go back to that. Silly or not, I love you, and I have for awhile I think," she finished with a small laugh.

Helping her up the first step of the church and turning her so that she was at eye level with him, he asked, "How could you think that I just wanted to be friends after what almost happened here? Before the imps interrupted us, I mean."

Holding his hands while she looked in his eyes, she said, "What did almost happen here? You were talking about mistaking acts of friendship for love. When I thought back over the conversation, I thought you might be trying to tell me I was making that mistake."

He shook his head disbelievingly and laughed. Placing his hand on her cheek, he said, "What almost happened here is that if the imps had been a couple of minutes later, I probably wouldn't have noticed them."

Laying her free hand on his shoulder she asked with a half-smile and quirked eyebrow, "And just why wouldn't you have noticed them?"

"Because I would have been busy."

"Busy?"

"With this," he answered and leaned forward to kiss her. After several long moments, he drew back a little breathless and rested his forehead against hers.

With a small laugh, she said, "Yes; that is just a little distracting."

"Just a little?" he asked in mock dismay, and then leaned forward to kiss her again.

Pulling back herself this time she said, "Maybe more than just a little. Charles, I'm a little cold."

Straightening and starting to pull off his coat, he said, "I'm sorry. Would you like my coat?"

Grasping his hands to stop him, she said, "No; I would like you to wrap your coat and your arms around me."

"Ahhh. I believe I can do that," he said as he pulled her close and rested his cheek on her hair.

Breathing deeply, he sighed, "I love the way your hair smells, especially on Wednesdays."

Drawing back, she looked at him quizzically.

"You must wash your hair with some sort of lemony concoction. It always smells like lemons. The scent is a little more pronounced on Wednesdays. I assume you wash your hair on Tuesday nights, which is probably why you retire a little earlier."

Watching him curiously, she said "I don't know whether to be a little frightened or flattered."

Laughing, he answered, "We've lived in very close proximity for the past nine years. I can't help it if I notice things. I have a pretty good idea of your likes and dislikes by now. For instance, I know you like Michelmas daisies. I know that autumn is your favorite time of the year. I know that you prefer Easter to Christmas although you like the Christmas music better. I've not stalked you. I've just paid attention. Now, there will be all sorts of new likes and dislikes to explore, and we can be in closer proximity."

"New likes and dislikes?"

"Such as whether you like it better for me to kiss you here," he asked kissing under her jaw lightly, "or here," he said nuzzling behind her left ear. Between kisses, he whispered in her ear, "And whether you prefer to sleep on the left or the right."

Pulling back with a slight gasp and blushing, she said, "You certainly don't seem nervous."

"No; because I'm thinking of the after. You're blushing, though," he said, clearly amused.

"Because I'm thinking of the after," she said wryly.

After a few more moments of enjoying their close proximity, they both reluctantly decided they should return to the house. It was chilly, and they did have work that needed doing. Although, since Lord and Lady Grantham were dining elsewhere, there was considerably less work that needed doing.

Offering his arm for the walk back, Charles said, "God bless the imps for sending us both notes to get us out here."

Looking up at him with a knowing smile, she said, "I didn't receive a note today."

Puzzled, he looked at her, "Then why were you there?"

"Do you still have your note?" she asked holding out her hand.

Curious, he pulled the crumpled ball from his coat pocket and handed it to her wordlessly.

Removing her arm from his, she smoothed it out,

_Mr. Carson_

_I love you. Please meet me at our path. _

_Love _

_Mrs. Huges_

Smiling, he said, "Straightforward and to the point as usual. Not wanting in sentiment either, two 'loves' in nine words."

"Charles, I would think that after all this time, you'd recognize my handwriting."

Stopping short, he gaped at her in shock, "You? But why?"

"Miss Sybil came to talk to me. She wanted to know if you'd been very mean to me. I have no doubt your shins would be bruised if I'd said yes," at his nod of agreement, she continued, "I couldn't very well tell her that you got on my wrong side by giving me a box of chocolates. It sounds rather silly when you're about to say it to a five year old."

"Five year olds do have a way of putting things in perspective," he agreed seriously.

"Well, as you said, I thought that I should at least hear you out after nine years of friendship. I also thought that by this time, I could stand your telling me you just wanted to be friends. And as you pointed out, this far away from the house no one would hear me yelling at you."

"And if I'd not come?"

"Then, at least once, even if it was from Mrs. Huges, I'd have told you I love you," she said seriously, and he drew her to him for another kiss.

Laughing as he took her arm to start back down the path, he said, "Miss Mary came to apologize to me and let me know that I should tell you how much I know of your likes and dislikes. It seems that they can work very effectively together when they want."

"I hope that doesn't end as they get older," she agreed, leaning close against his side for the walk back.

_**Reviews are welcome, if your teeth haven't rotted out from the sweetness, that is. **_


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the delay in updating. My computer caught a fatal case of the flu. The events of this chapter are about one year after the previous eight. At least one of the Crawley sisters is still up to her tricks.**

Elsie was quite put out, and Charles was going to hear about it. Did he think he could solve every problem with a present? This argument was far too important for a few flowers to make it go away. They were going to have to discuss things, and she was going to his pantry right now so they could do just that. If only he would think for a few minutes, she was sure he would see that she was right. He might as well go ahead and admit it now. She walked through the open door of his pantry only to see him standing, retrieving the key to the cellar. He looked over at her with a sigh and resigned set to his shoulders, "Mrs. Hughes, I'm sorry, but I really don't have time for a discussion right now. I need to go down to the cellar to sort out the wine for tomorrow night's dinner party. "

"Mr. Carson," she replied stiffly, "I only need a moment of your time to discuss the flowers that you gave me."

"What flowers?" he asked, stepping closer to both her and the door.

"The flowers that you left on my desk to apologize," she said insistently.

Looking at her patiently, he said, "I have not left any flowers on your desk and furthermore, I don't feel the need to apologize for anything. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some work to do," and he brushed past her out the door and down the hall to the cellar stairs.

Not willing to let this go, she followed him down the hall and then started down the stairs after him. "You don't feel that you have anything to apologize for? I'm sure if you'll just think about this for a few moments, you'll see that I'm right."

Turning his head to look back at her over his shoulder, he snorted, "Just because you can out-shout me does not mean that you are always right."

Stopping at the bottom of the stairs while he unlocked the bottom door, she asked, "Charles, don't you think we should talk about this?"

Pausing in unlocking the door, he turned his head to speak to her over his shoulder, "No; Elsie, because any discussion with you inevitably ends up with you repeating your opinions louder utterly confounded that I am so stupid as to not agree with you."

Unlocking the door he stepped through and she followed quickly, shutting the door sharply behind her. Stepping over to a shelf, he picked up a hand lamp and lit it, then started toward the wine racks. She took a lamp as well and stopped him so that she could retrieve his matches from his waistcoat pocket to light her own. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and slightly amused smile, then indicated the racks.

She stood watching him, arms crossed across her chest, chewing her bottom lip in thought. After a few moments he asked, "What kind of dessert is Mrs. Patmore making tomorrow night?"

"A chocolate torte."

"Hmmmm," he said, deep in thought, fingers trailing lightly over bottles of wine, he pulled one from the shelf and then replaced it, shaking his head. Then, his eyes brightened, and he pulled another bottle out, "This will do nicely, I believe, just the right counterpoint," then glancing over at her he asked, "What are you thinking?"

"Charles, do I really make you feel that way?" she asked thoughtfully and then clarified, "that I think your opinions are stupid."

Settling the bottle into the crook of his arm, he turned to face her squarely, "Yes; at times you do. I don't think you mean to. We're just both stubborn and set in our ways. I think you find it confusing that someone could think about an issue and come to a different conclusion than you."

Looking at him seriously, she asked, "Charles, I don't want you to agree with me on everything, and I most certainly will not agree with you on everything. I just find it strange when we seem to agree on so many fundamental things that we can come to different opinions about others. How can we disagree without fighting all the time?"

"I'm not really sure, but I'm glad we agree on the fundamentals, and I'm definitely committed to finding a way," he replied smiling, "But I don't think this is really the place to have this discussion, and I'd rather not be distracted while we're having it. Maybe tonight after dinner, we could sit down for a little talk?"

She smiled in agreement and nodded, "I'll leave you to your work, then."

Walking over to the door, she tried to open it only to find that it wouldn't budge. "Charles, did you lock the door?"

"No; it must just be stuck. I'll come over and give it a good tug."

He tried the door and realized that it was indeed locked. Feeling in his pocket for the key, he realized that he'd left it on the other side. With a groan, he rubbed his hand over his forehead and turned back to Elsie, "It's locked."

"I believe I said that," she looked at him dryly, "Don't you have the key?"

"It's on the other side," he said through gritted teeth.

"The other side!" she exclaimed, alarmed now, "How will we get out?"

Grasping the ring of keys at her side and giving it a little shake, he asked, "You don't have one in this bunch? O keeper of the keys."

Glaring at him, she said, "The wine cellar is the butler's business. Everyone knows that. How could you have left the key on the other side?"

"I wasn't really planning on an angry Scots woman slamming the door behind me," he ground out with a glare for her. Pausing to take a deep breath, he said, "We'll have to think of something. In the meantime, I'm going to continue my work." Then, he started back toward the wine racks.

Looking back over his shoulder when he realized that she didn't follow him, he saw that her eyes were closed, and she was breathing rapidly.

Alarmed, he was back to her in two strides and had grasped her upper arms, putting his hand lamp on the shelf, "Elsie, what's wrong?"

"I just don't like confined spaces," she said through panting breaths.

"What can I do?" he asked, "Short of busting the door down, that is."

"Just hold me."

Placing her lamp on the shelf beside his own, he drew her against his chest and made slow circles on her back and soothing noises in her ear. After a few moments, her breathing started to slow, and she relaxed against his chest.

"See, there you are," he said as he felt her relax, "We'll be fine, nothing to worry about. We certainly won't die from thirst," he quipped indicating the wine racks with a jerk of his head.

With a short laugh, she asked, "Do you really think it would be a good idea if the butler and housekeeper were found passed out in the cellar with empty wine bottles all around?"

"Well, when you put it that way…" he said in mock offense.

He smiled to hear her genuine laugh and then said as he pulled his clasp knife from his pocket, "Now, let's see what we can do about getting us out of here."

Looking at the knife in his hand, she asked, "Are you going to carve your way through the door?"

There was enough light to see the roll of his eyes, "No; I'm going to try to jimmy the lock."

"I thought you said you weren't a thief?"

Handing her one of the lamps and indicating that she should hold it for him, he said grimly, "I wasn't exactly, unless you count stealing shelter as being a thief. Sometimes we would break into storage sheds or abandoned buildings so that we could be out of the cold and rain. I got pretty good at locks."

Watching him seriously as he put his knife in the lock, she asked, "Was it really that bad?"

Snorting, he glanced at her quickly, "At the time, I thought I was having fun. Then, Grigg did steal something, and I realized that I wasn't too far away from doing the same," pausing for a moment, he looked at her seriously, "I was ashamed of myself, Elsie. I could have easily taken a different path. Instead, I came back to Downton, and you know the rest."

"Yes; you found your fortune here you said," she smiled.

"Well, I suppose you could say my fortune found me. Black hair, brown eyes, Scottish accent, fierce temper, nice bottom," he grinned.

Leaning forward she kissed him on the cheek, and he turned his attention back to the lock.

She watched him carefully as he worked his knife in the lock while twisting the knob with a look of intense concentration on his face. Thinking over their argument, she began to wonder how it was that so many of the traits that she found so attractive about Charles, she also found so annoying. For example, she valued his unwavering loyalty, but he was also intensely averse to change. She loved the high standards he set for himself, but hated his unbending nature. Sighing, she spoke her thought out loud without realizing it, "Sex does make things better."

With a start, his hand slipped forward on the knife nicking his finger, and the knife dropped to the floor with a clatter, "What?"

Blushing furiously, she pulled her handkerchief out and held it to his hand, "Not everything. Not big things, but when it seems that we're just constantly annoying each other, it gets better when we… That is, I find you much less annoying after we've, well, when we've had some time alone."

Watching her with wide eyes, he cleared his throat and asked, "How long does this, um, effect last?"

"A few days."

"So, then, we should try to find some time alone every few days, and we'll probably fight less. Is that what you're saying?"

"That would probably help," she agreed, and then seeing his continued wide-eyed look, she added, "I don't know why you're so shocked. Surely you knew that I enjoyed it, too."

Blushing himself now, he said, "Well, I thought you did, but that's very different from knowing that it has that much of an effect on you," then he picked up his knife and worked on the lock with renewed vigor, "We really need to get out of here."

"I suspect Miss Sybil," was her next comment.

"For the flowers?" he asked as he twisted the knife gingerly to the left and twisted the knob to hear a satisfying click and feel the knob give just enough to open the door. He smiled at her in satisfaction.

"And for locking us in," she agreed, relieved, as they both stood to open the door wider.

Seeing the key on the floor, he bent to retrieve it, and then shut the door again, "She's only six. Do you really think she would do this?"

"Almost seven," Elsie said as she pushed him against the door, "And yes, she's devious enough. Thinks she has to solve everyone's problems."

"Then, God bless Miss Sybil," he said seriously as he pulled her closer to him for a kiss.

Breaking away, she asked, "You'll still come to my parlor tonight?"

Nuzzling her neck, he answered, "I think I need to see if I can make myself less annoying to you."

"Good," she said as she pulled him down for a long, hungry kiss.

_**Reviews are appreciated and feed my addiction as always.**_


	10. Chapter 10

**More improbably, improbable fluff mostly from the 'girls' perspective this time. I think there's going to be plenty of angst once series 2 begins. **

"Sybil," Mary exclaimed, "you didn't!"

"You said they should be together," Sybil explained, confused about Mary's anger.

"But not _locked_ together in a cellar," Edith said, disbelieving, "How long have they been down there?"

"Well," Sybil said studying the carpet, "it was just after breakfast. I went down to get some crusts for the birds, and I saw them going down to the cellar. They were still fighting."

"It's almost time for luncheon!" Mary said, "You should have told us sooner, Sybil," she scolded as they started down to the kitchens.

"You better hope they're not mad," Edith continued scolding Sybil on the way down, "If they are, we're telling Father and Mother."

"And Grandmama!" Mary added noting with satisfaction that threat got Sybil's attention.

At the bottom of the stairs, they scurried down the hall quickly hoping no one would notice and started down the cellar stairs. Mary saw that the door was still closed. When they got to the bottom, she realized that it was locked as well. There was no key in sight.

"Sybil?" Mary asked turning around, "I thought you said you left the key here."

"I did," Sybil said, "I promise."

"Well, we'd better hope someone let them out," Edith said grimly.

They hurried back up the steps and Mary made them all pause at the top to catch their breath. "We'll look to see if the key is in Mr. Carson's pantry. If it's not, I don't know what we'll do, but you're taking the blame, Sybil."

Sybil looked like she was midway between hitting Mary and crying.

"Don't make her cry, Mary," Edith said crossly, "if she cries, Father will blame us."

They hurried down the hall to Mr. Carson's pantry where the door was shut. Mary had her hand almost on the doorknob when Edith stopped her with a hiss, "Wait! What if they're in there?"

Sybil said, "Why would that matter?"

Mary rolled her eyes, "They could be kissing, silly."

"Oh!" Sybil nodded with wide eyes.

They huddled together for a moment to try to decide what to do. A voice behind caused them all to jump, "Miss Mary, Miss Edith, Miss Sybil, may I help you?" Joseph asked.

Mary got her nerve back first, "We were just looking for Mr. Carson. We wanted to ask him if he knew where the old spyglass was in the attic."

Joseph chuckled, "Going on another expedition, are you? I've not seen him since just after breakfast. If you'll wait until after luncheon, I'll ask him or look for it for you."

"Thank you," Edith said and Mary breathed a sigh of relief when he walked away.

"They must still be locked in the cellar," Mary said with a significant look at Sybil, putting her hand on the doorknob.

She turned the doorknob and cautiously opened the door. There was no one there and more importantly, there was no key.

Edith groaned, "Oh no. What are we going to do? Father's sure to find out now."

"Don't panic," Mary said, "We'll check one more place before we go tell Father."

"Where?" Sybil asked.

"Mrs. Hughes' parlor."

They walked together down the hall and stood for a moment outside Mrs. Hughes' closed parlor door.

Sybil asked, "Do you think they could be _kissing_ in there?"

"I don't know," Mary answered grimly, "but we have to see if they're here."

Charles was standing on the other side of the door straightening his tie just as the girls walked up. He found himself amused listening to the rest of their conversation and beckoned a questioning Elsie over.

"Why do adults always have to kiss each other?" Edith was asking.

"I don't know," Mary said, "It's just what they do."

"Do you think it's fun?" Sybil asked.

Charles found himself nodding thoughtfully as he watched Elsie's amused smile.

"No," Mary answered decisively, "It's wet and gross."

Charles looked at Elsie with a quirked eyebrow and pointed to his chest. Thankfully, she shook her head.

"How do you know?" Edith asked, and Charles found that he was somewhat interested in the answer to this question himself.

"Because Patrick kissed me last time he was here," she hissed.

Charles was just a little put out by that bit of information. Regardless of whether he was likely her future husband or not, Patrick Crawley had no business kissing little Mary.

"Where?" Sybil asked.

"On the lips, silly."

Charles was more than a little put out now.

"I meant where were you," Sybil said.

"Oh, in the garden," Mary answered.

Charles made a mental note to increase supervision the next time young Master Crawley came to visit. Then he looked at Elsie, who nodded and opened the door.

"Ladies, what a surprise!" she said, "Were you in need of something?"

They had the pleasure of seeing all three girls start just a little and step back.

Surprisingly, it was Miss Sybil who rescued them, "We just wanted to see if Mrs. Hughes enjoyed her flowers."

"Oh," Elsie said in pretend surprise, "Was it you who brought me the flowers? I was just telling Mr. Carson how lovely they are."

Charles couldn't help giving her a slightly amused glance over the tops of the girls' heads. She had most certainly not just been telling him that. As a matter of fact, he couldn't remember much talking at all for the last half hour.

Deliberately ignoring his glance, Elsie said with genuine gratitude, "Thank you for the flowers, Miss Sybil. They are my favorite."

"Of course, Mrs. Hughes, you're very welcome," Mary said quickly tugging on Edith's and Sybil's arms, "We really should be getting upstairs."

Charles couldn't help himself, he pulled the cellar key from his pocket and said, "Yes, I just have to put this key up before I serve luncheon. I certainly wouldn't want it to get lost. Someone might get locked in the cellar by accident," he finished with a significant look at Miss Sybil who had the good grace to blush. Before the girls turned to leave, he noticed Miss Mary's wide-eyed stare.

When the girls had walked down the hallway and started up the stairs, Charles turned back to Elsie with a pleased grin and lifted his eyebrows. It certainly felt good to be one up on the little imps. Elsie's eyes widened when she looked at him, and she quickly pulled him back into her parlor.

"What is it?" he teased, "Do you want to tell me how lovely the flowers are again?"

She gave him a level look, "No wonder Miss Mary looked so pleased with herself," she whispered fiercely, "The buttons on your waistcoat are done up wrong."

Looking down, he blanched, "We'll have to be a little more careful next time."

"The next time I have to endure some of your wet, gross kisses," she asked with an amused smile.

"On the lips," he agreed seriously as he re-buttoned his waistcoat.

_**Reviews are welcome and feed my addiction as always.**_


	11. Chapter 11

**This is just a brief prelude to show how the girls schemed to allow Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes a little time alone. Again, I know that this continues to be improbably, improbable.**

The girls paused on the stairway before continuing to the drawing room for tea with their mother. This was their special treat each week to help them learn how to behave while taking tea with adults.

Mary turned to her sisters, "Now remember, we only have one chance at this, and we have to be very careful. Mother's not like Father. She might guess what we're doing."

Edith cast a significant look at Sybil, "That means you say just what we told you to say and nothing else."

"I know what I'm supposed to do," Sybil returned crossly, "You just do what you're supposed to do."

"Calm down, Sybil," Mary admonished, "This will never work if you look angry."

Once the three girls were composed, they entered the drawing room. As they were seated, Mr. Carson appeared at the door as if by magic. Their mother looked at him and nodded, "You may bring the tea, now, Mr. Carson."

"Of course, milady."

Once they were settled with their tea and cakes, Mr. Carson moved to stand in the corner to watch for any needs that might arise.

Mary began, "Mother, will all of the servants stay here while we're away?"

"No, dear, we're going to be gone for almost two weeks. I'm sure some of the staff will take the opportunity to visit family. I know Mrs. Patmore and Mrs. Hughes will be gone for at least some of the time."

This was Sybil's cue and she didn't miss it, "Where will Mrs. Hughes be going?"

"To visit her sister," Lady Grantham answered.

Edith chimed in with her question, "Where does she live, Mother?"

"I'm not sure that I know," Lady Grantham answered and then looked to the butler, "Mr. Carson?"

Mr. Carson had been studying the three girls very closely not sure where this was leading, with a very slight start he gave the name of the village.

It was Mary who interjected the next piece of information, "Isn't that near the estate you lived on as a boy, Mr. Carson?"

Mr. Carson had looked at her thoughtfully for just a moment before answering carefully, "Yes, milady, it is."

"Is it very far?" Edith asked.

"Only about two hours by train, milady," Mr. Carson answered still looking a little confused.

Sybil jumped in with her next line, "Will Mrs. Hughes be safe going all that way all alone on a train, Mother?"

Lady Grantham looked as though the thought had never occurred to her, and it probably hadn't, "I'm sure she will be, dear," although she obviously was beginning to wonder about this herself.

Then Mary said, as though the thought had just occurred to her, "It's too bad someone couldn't accompany her," and ignored Mr. Carson's stern gaze. Apparently, he had caught on.

Edith didn't even have to give her next line. Lady Grantham looked directly at Mr. Carson and asked, "And you grew up near that village Mr. Carson?"

"Yes, milady," he answered with a resigned look.

"Do you still know anyone there?"

"Yes, milady," he answered again with a stern gaze at each of the girls.

When their mother turned back to the tea table, all three girls exchanged triumphant looks, and Mary noticed that Mr. Carson was looking at her with an impressed almost smile. Suddenly, she felt very proud of herself.

**_Next chapter...Charles meets Elsie's older sister._**


	12. Chapter 12

**More improbability, but hopefully still amusing. I forgot to mention at the first of this story that I don't own any of these characters except for Elsie's sister and brother-in-law. Here's a very long chapter to make up for the very short one.**

Riding on the train, Charles watched the scenery pass by and tried not to dwell on where they were going. He was the most nervous he could remember being for a long while. He would have been drumming his fingers on his knee if Elsie didn't have a firm grasp on his hand. For goodness sake, he'd served breakfast, lunch, tea, dinner and after dinner drinks to Earls, Dukes, and other gentry for over thirty years. Surely he could endure meeting one Scots woman. The fact that this particular Scots woman was the older sister of the woman he held most dear in the world should be beside the point.

Elsie must have been reading his thoughts because she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Looking over at her, he saw her reassuring smile. He thought back to how this trip had come about. The family was going to be gone for almost two weeks to two different house parties. Elsie had asked her Ladyship for the time off to visit her sister, and she'd been glad to grant her the time. Then, Elsie had approached him. She had nervously asked him if he would be willing to try to come with her to meet her sister. Apparently, Sarah had been curious about him for a while, and it seemed that this might be his best chance to meet her.

Smiling, he remembered that he hadn't even had a chance to ask his Lordship. He had presided over her Ladyship's weekly tea with her girls and been impressed again with the way they worked together. His Lordship had approached him later that night.

"_My wife tells me that Mrs. Hughes is going to visit her sister while we're away. It seems that she is a little worried about Mrs. Hughes traveling alone."_

"_Yes, milord."_

"_Is it true that the village where Mrs. Hughes' sister lives is near where you grew up?"_

"_Yes, it is, sir."_

"_Do you think you could manage to visit friends at the same time? If you feel that you could both be gone at the same time, that is. It would make Lady Grantham feel much better, and Mrs. Hughes might not even suspect that you're being sent to escort her."_

"_I believe that Mrs. Hughes intended to leave Rose in charge of the housekeeping, and I would be comfortable leaving Joseph in charge of the house. I'm sure that I can change my plans to accommodate Mrs. Hughes, sir. I would be happy to be of service."_

Elsie had been offended that it was felt that she needed to be protected and escorted on the train. "I'm perfectly capable of traveling on my own. I don't need other people to make plans to protect me like I'm a child."

"Elsie, dear," Charles explained patiently, "The key point is that we're going to be traveling _together_. We'll be gone for four days and three nights. I don't really care how that was arranged as long as we're able to be together."

A little confused, Elsie said, "I can see your point, but I'm only planning on spending two nights with my sister."

"Exactly," he said with raised eyebrows for emphasis.

"Ahhhh. Well, that will be nice then," she said smiling as understanding dawned.

"By the way, there is a friend of my father's I'd like to visit in the village. If you don't mind?

"Of course," she agreed, then continued hesitantly, "Charles, I feel that I should warn you. My sister can be a little over bearing at times."

It was that little comment that had him worried. Anyone who Elsie thought was overbearing positively frightened him.

Stepping off the train, he took both their bags which naturally resulted in a minor skirmish on the platform.

"Charles, I'm perfectly capable of carrying my own bag."

"I never said you weren't, but what will your sister say if we show up with you carrying your own bag."

She'd just glared at him and said, "That, sir, is not fair." But she let him carry her bag. They'd walked out of the station, and Elsie was surprised to see her brother-in-law sitting outside with his cart. She turned to whisper to Charles, "Sarah must be nervous, too. I can't believe David's here in the middle of the day when there's work to be done on the farm."

After greetings were exchanged, they settled into the cart and headed toward the outskirts of town. They conversed about the weather, crops, and Elsie's nephew. Elsie and her brother-in-law were surprised at how much Charles knew about the surrounding country, and David was impressed when he found out that Charles was Eddie Carson's son. Apparently, he was a bit of a legend in horse-training circles.

When they arrived at the Cauthons' farm, Charles helped Elsie from the cart and bent to speak close to her ear, "I don't know why you're so surprised. I spent the first twelve years of my life not fifteen miles from here."

She had just smiled up at him and then turned to greet her sister who'd come out of the house at their approach and stood with her son at her side.

While the two sisters embraced, he took the opportunity to observe Sarah Hughes Cauthon and her son. She was fairer than Elsie with light brown hair and just a touch of gray. She was a little taller and more weathered, but still a handsome woman. Her eyes were the same though, and he noticed that she was studying him carefully as well. The boy looked to be about twelve and was also watching him closely. He was obviously torn between wanting to hug his aunt excitedly and trying to act grown up. He waited patiently for Elsie to introduce him to her sister and tried not to imagine any of the terrible things that any of this group might say to him or think of him.

"Sarah, Davey" Elsie had said with a small smile, "I would like you to meet my dear friend, Charles Carson."

Mrs. Cauthon had looked at Elsie in disbelief at the word friend which Charles chose to ignore, "Mrs. Cauthon, Davey, it is a pleasure to meet you."

She'd looked at him with a quirked eyebrow and said, "If you're Elsie's _dear friend," _she said, looking at Elsie wryly, "you should probably call me Sarah."

Charles had to bite back a smile at Elsie's blush and angry glare for her sister, "Well, then, Sarah, you should probably call me Charles."

He offered to help David and Davey with the cart and horses but was sent inside with a small smile and sympathetic nod, "You won't be able to avoid her forever. Don't take her too seriously, though. She just loves her little sister and wants to be sure she's happy."

Charles followed the ladies inside to find a pleasant home. There was essentially one large room with a kitchen to one side and sitting area to the other with three doors leading, he assumed, to bedrooms. There was a kettle boiling and plates of sandwiches and cakes on the table. At least he'd have some refreshment during his torture.

Surprisingly, all the things he'd feared did not come to pass. There were no embarrassing questions or angry looks. Sarah spent the entire tea telling him stories about Elsie growing up, and he tried to commit as many as possible to memory for future teasing. After her second cup of tea, Elsie had begged to be excused to wash up a bit and had gone to one of the bedrooms.

Charles watched her contentedly as she walked across the room. Once the door was closed behind Elsie, Sarah set her cup on the table, picked up the cake knife, and looked at him squarely, "Now, Charles, just what are your intentions for my sister?"

He looked at her dumbfounded by the sudden change in the conversation. Resisting the urge to stand up and call to Elsie for help, he turned to her to face her fully and said, "I intend to love, honor and cherish her as long as I live."

"Are you planning on marrying her?"

He cleared his throat, "I,um, I believe you should ask your sister that question."

She grunted at that comment and said, "So, you've asked then, and she's refused. Stubborn girl. She's always been too independent by half."

He found himself a little speechless at her keen assessment and nodding at her description of Elsie.

Elsie walked back into the room then, and Sarah quickly switched to more inane conversation. Elsie had taken one look at his face and turned to Sarah knowingly, "I think Charles and I should take a little walk to stretch our legs after the train."

Sarah just raised her eyebrows in an almost mirror image of Elsie's knowing look and agreed.

Once they were far enough away to expect a little privacy, she asked, "What did Sarah say to you?"

"She merely wanted to know what my intentions were toward you."

"What did you tell her?"

"The truth."

"Did you tell her that you'd asked me to marry you?"

"Nooo," he replied a little too carefully.

"She guessed," Elsie immediately knew, "Well, I'll never hear the end of this. Thank you for that, Charles Carson," she finished with a grim nod.

"What were you thinking leaving me alone with her?" he asked in astonishment, "She's dangerous. She made me comfortable with all that tea and then went for the kill the moment you were out of the room. She was holding a knife, for goodness sake. Will you be like that in a few years?"

She snorted, "I doubt it. That takes years of practice. Any girl Davey fancies won't have a chance."

By this time, they'd made their way to a small fence, and they stood looking out over the field. Charles found himself thinking about what his life might have been like if his father hadn't died. Feeling Elsie's hand on his arm, he looked down to see her quizzical smile.

"I was just imagining what would have happened if my father hadn't died when I was twelve."

"Do you think you'd have become a groom?"

He nodded, "Probably, I enjoyed working with him. My mother really wanted me to be on the house staff, though. When I came to Downton, there wasn't any opportunity to become a groom, so I became a boot black and hall boy."

"If you'd stayed here, we'd probably have never met."

"Oh, I don't know about that," he said with a smile as he wrapped his arms around her and drew her back against his chest kissing her temple, "the estate I grew up on is just a few miles on the other side of the village. You might have come to visit your sister."

"Actually, I lived here with my sister for a while and then worked for a lady here. It was my first live-in job."

"Even better. I'd have been sure to come to the village for something."

"And we'd have just happened to meet?" she asked as she turned in his arms to face him.

He shrugged, "Maybe there would have been a fair." He bent to kiss her lightly.

"Or a dance," she agreed as she kissed him a little less lightly.

"I would have asked you to dance as soon as I saw you, and I wouldn't have let anybody else have a chance," he said as he nuzzled her neck, "Then, when our feet were sore, I'd have tried to coax you outside for a kiss," and he pulled her tight against his chest to kiss her again.

When they broke away from the kiss, she said a little breathlessly, "I'd have gone with you."

"Then, I would have begged you to tell me where you lived," he said smiling down at her, hand on her cheek stroking it lightly with his thumb, "and I'd have visited you every chance I had."

Stretching up to kiss him again, she said, "I'd have had to tell you the lady I cleaned and cooked for didn't allow gentleman callers."

"Would you have met me on your half days?" he asked kissing her jaw.

"And probably have snuck you into the kitchen when she wasn't looking," she nodded, tilting her head to the side.

Pulling back to look at her seriously after a few minutes, he asked, "Elsie, do you wish we'd had all that?"

Resting her forehead against his chest, she took a deep breath, "I wouldn't trade what we have now for anything, but…"

"Children?" he finished for her.

"Charles, that might not have been a possibility even then. After all, we still could…, and we've been together for almost two years now. It just wasn't meant to be," she finished briskly but sadly, smoothing his tie.

Rocking her gently, he kissed her temple and traced patterns on her back until she was ready to go back inside.

They walked back toward the house with her arm in his and his hand covering hers. She went inside for some time alone with Sarah, and he went to the barn to talk to David and Davey. Davey was excitedly finishing his work so that he could go to a friend's house to show him the compass Elsie (at Charles' suggestion) had given him. Charles took over a few of those chores so that he could go on, and he ran in to tell his mother he probably wouldn't be back until after supper.

Charles and David quickly finished the last of the work and went in to get cleaned up for supper. When he stepped in the house, he noticed that Elsie and Sarah seemed to have made peace and were cooking together. He smiled as he saw how easily they worked together. It was obvious there was genuine affection there.

Once Charles had washed up and changed into a fresh shirt, he came back to the kitchen and saw that it was almost time to eat. David was sitting in the armchair and motioned for Charles to join him.

"How long have you and Elsie been involved?"

Charles looked at him blankly for a moment. He was just as direct as his wife, but at least he wasn't holding a knife. "If you mean romantically, almost two years now, but of course, I've considered her a very good friend ever since I met her."

David snorted, "I know about that. Almost from the first, Elsie's letters were filled with comments about Mr. Carson. She never said anything, but about two years ago, it became 'Charles'. We weren't even sure Mr. Carson and Charles were the same person at first. Sarah finally got up the courage to ask."

Charles' eyebrows climbed to his hairline. He couldn't believe that Sarah was lacking in courage in anything. "Elsie, didn't say anything then? About us?"

"Not much. She's told us just a little on her visits. I must say, we were pleasantly surprised when she told us you were coming with her this time. How did you manage that?"

Charles smiled as he told the story, and they were both chuckling by the end of it. By the time he finished, supper was ready, and they went to sit at the kitchen table. He was seated across from Elsie and found it disconcerting to be able to watch her so directly when he was used to sitting beside her. The conversation stayed light during the meal about some people that Elsie knew in the village and the farm's prospects for the coming year. After a while, he asked about his father's friend, "Do you happen to know a Tom Thatcher?"

David had looked up at him in surprise, "You mean old lame Tommy? Used to be a jockey?"

"Yes; that would be him. He was a friend of my father's. He helped to train horses after his accident."

"He lives in the village. Well, I must say I'm surprised. Somehow, I didn't think someone like you would know someone like him. Doesn't get around well anymore, but he still comes out to the horse race the village has once a year. I've learned to listen to his predictions. He's helped me to win a shilling or two on bets, I'll tell you."

"I'd like to go and visit him tomorrow if you don't mind, and Elsie has agreed to go with me."

"You're welcome to take the cart and horse," David agreed smiling.

Sarah had looked at David carefully and said, "Maybe you should take a few provisions along as well. Tommy's not that well off. He usually won't take anything, but he might from you, especially if you go about tea time. He couldn't resist if you were just taking things for your tea, could he?"

The meal was finished with fresh raspberries and cream. Charles had smiled across at Elsie and said, "Your favorite."

Elsie raised her eyebrows at him and said wryly, "Imagine my only sister knowing that."

Davey came in and sat down with them to eat some of the raspberries and cream. He spent some time showing his father how his compass worked and telling Charles more about the farm and his plans to be a grand adventurer. When the ladies were almost done in the kitchen, David sent him off to bed.

Once the clearing up was finished, Elsie and Sarah came to sit beside their men. Elsie sat close to Charles on the sofa, and it took a moment for him to realize that he could put his arm around her. David pulled a rocking chair into the room for Sarah to sit in. They all sat for a while watching the fire on the hearth and digesting the lovely meal they'd just eaten. Charles felt almost intoxicated with the warmth of the room and the feeling of Elsie leaned against him. After a while, he decided to turn the tables on David and Sarah, "How did you two end up together?"

Elsie snorted and if he wasn't mistaken Sarah blushed just a little. David smirked, however, and said one word, "Eggs"

Charles was very confused, "Beg pardon?"

Elsie had actually started shaking against him trying to hold in her laughter, which was very distracting, and Sarah was definitely pink now. He was intrigued by anything that could embarrass this formidable woman and encouraged David to continue with raised eyebrows.

"Well, Sarah was caring for a lady in the village. I noticed her not long after she came. Pretty lass and lively," he said smiling over at her which caused her to look away, "I tried to talk to her when she was out and about, but she'd have none of it. She made it very clear that she was not interested in playing around. So, I decided to court her proper."

Here a small chortle escaped Elsie, and Sarah shot her a deathly glare.

"I picked some flowers to bring to her which she promptly tossed back in my face," he said smiling, "She told me that anyone that couldn't do better than pick a bunch of weeds needn't bother her."

Sarah was looking down now, obviously embarrassed. David took her hand and smiled at her gently.

"So the next week, I brought her bought flowers which she actually hit me over the head with telling me that I was a fool to spend money on something as silly as flowers."

Charles actually looked a little astonished at that image.

David was smiling broadly now, "Finally, I took the hint and brought her eggs."

Charles couldn't help himself, "Wasn't that a little risky? I mean, after what she'd done with the flowers."

Sarah jumped in here, "Of course not! I'd never waste lovely eggs throwing them at a man."

David laughed and nodded his head, "After that I brought her fresh milk, butter, apples, anything I could think of from my farm."

"And that lovely cabbage and those peas," Sarah remembered smiling.

"Each time she thanked me, I just told her it was from my farm."

Sarah then said with a smile, "After a while, I realized that he was offering me his farm and himself. I've always been very happy with both," she finished patting his hand.

"You must be persistent to catch one of these Hughes' girls, Charles, but they're worth it."

Charles smiled at the obvious affection between them and relaxed back against the sofa, lightly stroking Elsie's shoulder, thinking how fortunate he was to have caught one of the Hughes' girls for himself.

David cleared his throat after that and he and Sarah stood, "We'll be off to bed now. Of course you know we sleep soundly Elsie. We probably won't hear a thing until five o'clock. I'm sorry we can't offer you anything more comfortable than the sofa, Charles. Elsie will help you make it up, I'm sure."

Once they'd shut their bedroom door, Charles sat back down and resumed his light strokes of Elsie's shoulder while she leaned against him. He'd been too nervous on the train to enjoy the close contact, but now he was mesmerized by the feel of her arm against his side and her thigh lying against his own. Turning his head to the side, he nuzzled her neck. Being able to be this openly affectionate around each other was wonderful. Elsie turned then to kiss him and placed her hand on his knee. Her hand slipped gradually up his thigh until he came to himself enough to pull back alarmed, "Elsie, no, not here. Not in your sister's home."

"Charles, you heard David. He was all but telling us that they wouldn't bother us tonight."

Charles groaned and leaned into her intoxicating kisses again enjoying her touches until he was finally able to garner the strength to grasp her wrist and pull back. "Do I need to remind you that your sister threatened me with a knife this afternoon?"

"I talked to her about that. That was just a misunderstanding. She understands now how things are between us. She doesn't necessarily like it, but she understands," Elsie said and then determinedly began to nibble his lower lip.

He grunted and stood, "A misunderstanding? So she was just asking me incredibly difficult questions in a threatening tone while she just happened to be holding a knife? Elsie, you are going to your bed _to sleep_, and I am going to stay out here. Although, I doubt I'll get much sleep thanks to you."

"Charles, there is a very comfortable, double bed in that room. Are you sure you wouldn't like to share it with me?"

"Are you deliberately trying to torture me? There's nothing I'd like better, but I don't want to risk your sister catching me there. Who knows what she might cut off?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

She laughed, "Don't you trust me to protect you?"

"Elsie, dear, we still have that third night," he said smiling trying to distract her.

She stood then and said, "Maybe tomorrow night you won't be so afraid."

"I am _not_ afraid. I'm just being careful. Really, Elsie, you didn't see her with that knife," he pleaded.

"Fine, Charles, I give in," she said as she started toward her room, "just so you know, I probably won't get much sleep tonight either."

_**Reviews are welcome and appreciated.**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**I own nothing here but the storyline and Sarah. I thought it would be nice to see her point of view of her sister's beau.**_

Sarah awoke to the sound of her stove clattering in the kitchen. She was just a little frightened before she remembered that Charles had slept out there last night. At least she hoped he had. She still was not entirely comfortable with this arrangement and certainly not under her own roof. Closing her eyes, she reminded herself that Elsie was a grown woman and could do what she wanted. Silly girl! He'd asked her to marry him and no matter the reasons Elsie had tried to give her yesterday, she couldn't help thinking that she was silly to have refused. Although she had to admit that Charles seemed to be just as committed to her as he would be if they were married. Looking over at her clock in the first rays of sunlight, she saw that it was just a little before 5 o'clock. At least he wasn't lazy.

Rising, she dressed quickly and went into her kitchen. She saw that her stove had been lit and a large kettle of water was sitting on it to heat. The blankets were folded neatly on the sofa, and they at least looked to be in a little different position than last night. Charles was nowhere to be seen. She glanced over at Elsie's door. She hoped he wasn't in there. She wasn't sure what she would do if they walked out of that room together, although using the rolling pin on him came to mind. Shaking her head, she went to Davey's room to wake him before starting breakfast. David and Davey went out together to milk the cows and promised to bring her some fresh eggs. She had just started slicing the bread for toast when Charles walked in from outside. She smiled at him in genuine relief and thanked him for lighting her stove.

Looking down at the stove quickly, she shut her eyes and asked, "Was the sofa comfortable enough for you?"

Watching him carefully as he answered she saw that he had definitely slept out here, thank goodness, and he climbed several steps in her estimation. "I went outside for a little walk. I suppose when you've risen at 4:30 for years then you can't really change that just because you're on holiday."

She grunted, "Doesn't seem like much of a holiday to me to be visiting your _dear friend's _sister."

"Well, Elsie wanted me to meet you, and I was glad to have the opportunity."

"And do you do everything Elsie wants?"

She watched and saw a faint blush on his cheeks and his quick glance first at Elsie's door and then down at the knife in her hand as he answered, "I enjoy making her happy."

Turning so that she could face him squarely, she said, "Elsie let me know how things are between you yesterday. I can't say that I'm completely satisfied with your arrangement, but you certainly seem to make her happy. As long as you continue to do that, I'm glad for you."

His blush deepened but he relaxed visibly, "Actually, I would like your help…"

Then Elsie walked out of her room, and he turned to greet her. She wondered what he'd been about to say for a moment before turning her attention back to slicing the bread.

Charles walked out toward the barn after a moment, and Elsie came to help her, tying on an apron as she stepped closer to the stove.

"Did you sleep well last night?" Sarah asked although she could tell by the grim set of her jaw that she hadn't.

"As well as can be expected in a strange bed, I suppose," Elsie replied as she sliced off strips of bacon.

Looking at her carefully, Sarah said, "Charles said the sofa was comfortable enough."

"I suppose it probably was," Elsie answered, slicing the bacon with extra vigor.

Sarah nodded thoughtfully, "_So that was the way of it was it?",_ and Charles rose just a little higher in her estimation.

Davey came in with a basket of eggs then, and she knew David and Charles would likely soon follow. She hurried to finish breakfast, and by the time they had washed up she and Elsie were setting plates of food on the table.

She watched approvingly as Charles held Elsie's chair and then sat down herself. The next little while was taken with passing food around the table and eating, although she noticed that both Charles and Elsie seemed to be distracted during the meal. David, dear man, glanced at them both and winked at her with a small smile. She rolled her eyes and smiled back. Heavens! One would think they were nervous teenagers and not middle-aged adults used to running a large household between them.

Breakfast was soon finished, and she and Elsie started the clearing up while the men sat at the table with a second cup of tea. She glanced over occasionally to see Charles watching Elsie with a familiar look in his eyes. Puzzled, she tried to remember why that look was so familiar, and then she realized with a start that that was how David looked at her.

Smiling to herself, she didn't think she'd mind having this man for her brother-in-law at all. Now, she was just going to have to get Elsie to accept his proposal. If only she would, they'd both be able to sleep comfortably in that nice double bed in the guest room on their next visit. At least that would likely keep them a little less distracted at breakfast.

_**Reviews are welcome as always. I'd really like to know if it worked to see this scene from Sarah's perspective, and I promise the story is going somewhere. I've just fallen in love with Sarah & David a little and can't help stretching their story out just a bit.**_


	14. Chapter 14

**_Thank you all for your reviews. I'm glad you enjoyed Sarah's point of view. These guys still don't belong to me, if they did I wouldn't have to wait until January to find out what happens. _**

After breakfast Davey took Charles on a 'proper' tour of the farm. Charles was just a little worried when Davey promised his mother to not let him get hurt. Charles saw Davey's favorite reading spot, a crook in a tree with a nice hole in the trunk to hold treasures. Then Davey took him to the brook to check his line for fish, and Charles was pleased to see they'd be having fresh fish for supper. As they walked Davey talked about the various trees, plants, and insects that they saw. Charles was impressed with how much he knew, and not just common knowledge either. He knew the scientific names and about the habits and lives of all these little bugs. There was a small pad and pencil he kept in his back pocket to make sketches of anything interesting or new which he later transferred to a larger book. Charles was impressed with the detail of each drawing. Davey definitely had the makings of a scientist, and he told him so. Davey proudly declared, "As soon as I'm old enough, I'm going to go off and make something of myself."

Charles smiled at him, remembering how he had felt the same, although without quite the amount of talent Davey showed, "I can certainly understand that feeling, but you should remember that you don't have to go anywhere to make something of yourself. It seems to me that there's quite a bit of exploring to do right here."

Charles returned from their walk dusty with a handkerchief wrapped around his hand to see that Elsie and Sarah had packed a basket for them to take to Tommy. Sarah laughed when she saw him, "He showed you the kittens, didn't he?"

With a rueful look, Charles said, "Yes and I was foolish enough to try to help one back to her mother," He held out his hand to show a row of deep scratches.

Elsie gasped and grasped his hand to pull him over to the sink. "Charles Carson, you should know better than to come between a mother and her kittens," she admonished as she cleaned the scratches.

Wincing as she scrubbed the scratches with soap and a clean cloth, he said, "Elsie, she had fallen out and was floundering on the floor. I was just trying to help her back to her momma. What else was I supposed to do? I can't help it if the cat was over-protective."

Sarah had been watching this exchange with an interested smile and felt the need to speak, "She had no way of knowing your intentions were good. You can't blame her for wanting to protect her kitten."

Charles looked over at her thoughtfully and smiled, nodding his head.

"We need to leave soon if we're going to visit Tommy today and be back before supper," he said to Elsie, "I'm sure that Davey would like to show you the kittens, just don't pick any up," he finished with a smile.

"I grew up on a farm. I have more sense than that," she said with a lift of her eyebrows as she walked out the door.

He turned back to Sarah with a smile who said, "Let me get you some of this hot water, and you can go brush off your suit and clean up a little."

"First I want to ask you for a little bit of help," Charles said, reaching into his waistcoat pocket, and was pleased to see her agreeing nod.

Emerging from the house later carrying the very heavy basket, he saw that Davey almost had the horse hitched to the cart. Elsie's hair was slightly disheveled and there was some dust on her skirt, so he knew she'd probably climbed into the loft to see the kittens as well. She went inside to clean up while he put the basket in the cart and helped Davey finish hitching the horse. Sarah came out to see them off and Charles apologized, "I'm sorry to be taking Elsie away from her visit with you. I promise to have her back as soon as I'm able."

"Take your time," she answered with a smile as Elsie emerged from the house pinning her hat to her head.

He saw Elsie's small smile of genuine relief as she saw the exchange between him and her sister.

He helped her into the cart and then climbed in after her. They'd barely moved away from the farm when she scooted closer to him so that her thigh lay beside his, and she put her hand on the crook of his elbow.

"Elsie, I don't drive carts very often. You might not want to distract me too much," he warned, "Unless you want to end up in the ditch, that is."

"Charles," she began stiffly, "I do have some self control. I wasn't exactly happy about last night, but I see your point. Besides, we probably need to leave each other alone today," she finished with a wicked smile.

"We do?" he asked, barely able to keep the disappointment from his voice.

"We both need to get plenty of sleep tonight," she said seriously.

"And why would that be?"

"Well, I certainly don't intend to get any sleep tomorrow night," she quipped looking at him directly.

He gaped at her for a moment until she said, "Charles!" in alarm and directed his attention back to the road where he was indeed headed for the ditch. Quickly righting their course, he pulled the horse to the side after a few moments and stopped the cart, applying the brake. Checking in both directions to see that they were alone on the road, he half pulled her into his lap for a furiously passionate kiss. Straightening and releasing her so that she could settle back by his side, he said, "That comment, dear, would be classified as distracting."

She straightened her hat and said a little breathlessly, "And that, dear, would not be classified as leaving me alone."

Chuckling, he released the brake and urged the horse on toward the village. Elsie settled beside him and put her hand back on the crook of his elbow. They rode along like this for a while enjoying the feel of legs and arms pressed against each other swaying slightly with the movement of the cart. Charles broke the silence with a cautious comment, "David said you hadn't really told them much about us."

She watched him carefully for a moment before answering, "No; I hadn't. I suppose it's because _we_ are a little difficult to explain to someone else. We're, well, how would you describe to someone else what we are to each other?"

He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment then back at the road, "I believe I understand. It's a little hard to sum up in just one or two words. I suppose _dear friend_ would do as well as anything," then with a mischievous glance he said, "I can understand your not wanting to tell your sister that I am your lover."

She blushed slightly, "That sounds like a cheap novel, but I did tell her that yesterday."

"You didn't!" he exclaimed then chuckled, "When you told me you'd explained how things were between us, I didn't think you'd gone that far. No wonder she looked so relieved this morning."

At her questioning glance, he continued, "I woke early this morning and went outside for a walk. When I came back your sister was making breakfast, and she looked like she could almost pass out from relief. She was probably afraid we'd emerge from your bedroom with our clothing askew."

She laughed with him for a moment at the image and said, "Well, I have to admit it would have been nice, but I agree with you that it would probably be best if we restrained ourselves while we're here. I have no desire to give my sister a heart attack."

They continued in silence for a while longer until Elsie asked, "Charles, why have you never visited this friend before?"

"I have," he said, then explained, "Tommy's lived in a lot of different places. Here, Manchester, London. I've not visited him here, but I saw him every summer when he was in London. I suppose he considers this home, because he moved back here a few years ago when he wasn't able to work anymore. I've written him fairly regularly. He was a good friend of my father's. I suppose you could say he's the last connection to my past."

After a few more moments, he cleared his throat and said, "Elsie, don't be surprised if he seems to think we've been together longer than we have. He was always asking me about finding a woman for myself. A few years ago, I got tired of it so I told him that I had."

"How many years?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow.

He watched the horse for a few moments then said quietly, "Ten"

"Ten?" she asked incredulously, "You've only known me eleven years."

He shifted his shoulders a little uncomfortably until she wrapped both arms around his left arm tightly and kissed him on the shoulder, "Dear, sweet man," she whispered.

By this time they'd approached the outskirts of the village and Charles sat up a little straighter as he tried to remember David's directions to Tommy's cottage. He had to admit that he was looking forward to introducing Tommy to the woman he'd heard so much about.

**_Again, thank you so much for your reviews. They are greatly appreciated._**


	15. Chapter 15

_**Sorry for the slight delay. Still improbably improbable and definitely AU now. These folks still don't belong to me, but I'm really enjoying playing with them.**_

Elsie had to admit that she was a little nervous as they approached the door to the small cottage. She knew this man was the nearest thing to family that Charles had left. Charles stopped her for a moment and said, "Elsie, don't be worried. Tom knows how I feel about you. He's probably just as nervous as you."

Hooking her arm through the crook of his elbow, she said wryly, "I just hope he doesn't have the same fondness for knives that my sister does."

Laughing ruefully, Charles said, "I don't think anyone has the same fondness for knives as Sarah. Are you ready?" he asked gently.

She nodded and he knocked on the door. Several moments later, a very small, elderly, somewhat feeble man leaning heavily to one side opened the door. "Charlie—I mean, Charles it's good to see you. And this must be your Elsie. Come in, come in."

Elsie noticed that his cane was leaning beside the door so that he could clasp Charles' hand with both of his. Elsie shook his hand as well and then he beckoned them into his home. It was small and sparsely furnished but neat. It looked to be just two rooms. In the main room there was a kitchen area with a stove and sink and a small settee and armchair in front of the fireplace. She was sure that the door probably led to a bedroom. Charles set the basket heavily on the table and Tom waited for them to remove their hats and coats before leading them to the sitting area. Gesturing for them to sit down on the settee, he sank down gratefully in the armchair with his leg stretched out straight before him. If that small amount of activity was so hard for him, she knew that his injury must be a bad one.

Charles frowned at him in concern, "Is your leg so much worse? I don't recall it being this hard for you to get around."

"It is a little stiffer," he said, "but today I think it must be about to rain. The weather always makes it hurt worse. I get around well enough. Now, tell me how it is that you were able to visit and bring your Elsie with you this time."

Elsie noted Charles' nervous glance and smiled back at him reassuringly. She didn't mind being referred to as 'his Elsie'. Although she wondered just what he'd told Tom about her.

"It's Elsie who brought me with her. She came to visit her sister and Lord Grantham felt that she shouldn't travel all that way on her own. So I was elected to escort her, which I didn't mind at all, of course," he finished with a smile.

"Your sister?" Tom asked Elsie.

"Sarah Cauthon," she answered and he smiled.

"I don't know Sarah well, but I've talked to David at the races a few times."

Charles answered, "Yes, he mentioned that you'd helped him make a shilling or two. Elsie, Tom is the best judge of horses I know. I've never known him to be wrong if he's sure about the outcome of a race."

Tom winked at Charles, "I seem to remember that I've helped you make more than a shilling or two."

"You certainly have," Charles said with a smile as he leaned back against the settee and draped his arm around Elsie.

Elsie sat up, surprised by this piece of information, "You're a gambler?"

Charles and Tom both looked at her in shock and spoke at once, "No!"

Then Tom let Charles explain, "Elsie, Tom and I used to go to the races quite a bit, but I would only place a bet if he was absolutely sure. It's not gambling. It's an investment, and a pretty sure one at that," he finished with a smile.

Elsie watched him skeptically for just a moment. This was something she never suspected about him, and she wasn't sure that she liked it. She smiled tightly and rose, saying, "Why don't I start unpacking that basket?"

Charles looked at her a little confused and Tom said, "Charles, it is a bit hard for me to get outside. Would you bring a little wood in for the fire?"

Once Charles was outside, Tom limped over to the table and watched as Elsie pulled item after item out of the basket. They were certainly going to have a hearty tea. "Your sister did know that it's just the three of us for tea, didn't she?"

Elsie smiled genuinely, "I think that she's still trying to impress Charles with her cooking skills. Of course, you'll have to keep anything that is left here. She'd never forgive me if she didn't think he ate every bite."

She saw from his eyes that he didn't believe a word of it but would go along with the ruse and keep the food Sarah had sent for him. He sat down in one of the chairs and began, "Elsie, I need to explain something to you. Charles is most certainly not a gambler. Not as you'd think of one. He'd be very upset to think you saw him as such. You see, his father gambled on cards, dice, everything but horses. He never actually lost so much as to be broke, but Charles blames him a little for the fact that his mother had to work so hard. I have never once in all the time I've known him seen him bet on a game of chance."

She took a deep breath of relief and continued unpacking the basket, "How is it that you know each other? Charles hinted that you didn't actually work on the estate."

"You've noticed that I'm a little on the short side?" he asked grinning at her nod, "I was a jockey. During one race my horse broke his leg and fell on me, pretty near crushing mine."

Charles came in at this point and after laying another log on the fire, came over to the table to help unpack the basket.

"I didn't lose my leg, but I lost my livelihood. I was at a loss," he said, "Eddie, that is, Charles' father came to me to ask for help training horses. He made me see that there were other things that I could do. I became a bit of an expert, traveled to different estates training thoroughbreds for racing. Of course, I always had to come back to my Annie," he finished sadly.

"Your wife?" she asked curiously.

"No; we never-," he coughed, "I think I should probably check the fire."

Elsie looked at Charles who was watching his friend sadly. Answering her look, he whispered, "She was the cook at the estate. They were saving up to get married, but she caught pneumonia one winter and died. That was after my mother and I had already left. It was hard on him, I think."

Tom came back to the kitchen, "I have a spirit lamp that we can use to heat the water. It's easier than making a fire in the stove," and he pulled the lamp off a shelf which Charles lit and set a kettle of water over.

Smiling again now, he looked back at Elsie, "To finish the answer to your question, I've known this boy since he was a five year old nuisance. I thought at one point that he might even make a good jockey," glancing up at Charles ironically, "Obviously that was one prediction that didn't come to pass. I kept in touch with his mother after she moved to Downton, and even hunted him down when," he broke off looking at Charles questioningly, "Does she…?"

Charles answered quickly, "Oh, yes, Elsie knows all about the 'years of stupidity'."

"Anyway, I checked up on him then, and we've kept in touch over the years."

Charles had found some plates and Elsie was slicing bread and cheese to make sandwiches while they waited for the kettle to boil. He placed the scones on a plate and opened the jars of preserves for the scones and a jar of pickles to go with their sandwiches. Sarah had even sent a little honey to sweeten their tea. Elsie noticed that Charles placed the smaller basket of raspberries that she had set out back into the larger basket.

"Charles?" she asked indicating the raspberries.

"Oh, I thought we'd keep those for ourselves. We can eat them on the way back."

Strange man, she'd never known him to be that selfish. Before she could say anything, the kettle started to boil and Charles moved to lift it off the lamp while she hurriedly scooped the tea into the pot. He filled it, and she set out the plates of food while they waited the few minutes for the tea to steep.

Sitting down to enjoy their tea, she couldn't help noticing that Tom was watching them with an amused smile. "You two work well together, must come from doing it for years," he said as he took a sandwich and spooned a little honey into his tea.

Charles looked at her with a half smile and shrugged, then spooned just a little honey into her tea and a larger portion into his own. Tasting her tea, she realized that it had just the right amount of sweetness.

After a few sips of tea, she glanced mischievously at Charles and asked, "Now, Tom, maybe you could tell me a few stories about that five year old nuisance?"

Seeing Charles irritated look, Tom said, "I'm not so sure that Charles would be happy about that."

Smiling directly at Charles, she said, "But these would be stories about _Charlie _so Charles shouldn't mind."

Tom looked at each of them and said, "Anything to make a lady happy," then proceeded to tell her stories about Charlie. She tried to commit as many as she could to memory for future teasing. Charles protested a little when he described _the Cheerful Charlies_ to her, but Tom persisted with a wry grin, "I thought you said she knew all about that. You shouldn't keep secrets from your Elsie," he admonished, "Have you not even danced for her in all this time?"

"No," he said forcefully, "But I have sung for her and performed a magic trick or two," he finished with a quirked eyebrow at Elsie who blushed faintly as she remembered one of those tricks in particular. She still wasn't sure how he'd gotten that coin _there_.

Tom looked at Elsie and said, "You really need to see him dance. He's very good. Quick on his feet."

Charles snorted and said lightly, "Why don't you eat another scone instead of talking so much?"

Three sandwiches, two scones, several pickles and two cups of tea later, Tom leaned back in his chair and said, "Thank Sarah Cauthon for me. Those are the best scones I've had since Annie…"

He looked down for a moment and then back at them, "I'm sorry. She's been on my mind a lot lately. I came back here to be close to her when my own time came, and so many things here remind me of her."

"Don't be sorry on our accounts," Charles said, "I think I can understand a little how you feel," as he glanced over at Elsie.

Elsie found that her eyes were drawn to Charles as well. Her feelings were very confused. On the one hand, she wished that she could be the first to go, but on the other, she certainly wouldn't want this for her Charles. She looked down at the table for a moment until he nudged her foot. Looking back at him, he gave her a gently reassuring smile.

Tom cleared his throat, "I don't think you can. Not completely," he looked toward the window as he bit out the words, "They wouldn't let me be with her, you know, at the end, because we weren't married. We should have married sooner, but of course, you always think you have plenty of time."

She felt Charles' eyes on her, and she looked down to compose herself before looking him in the eyes. She broke away first and began clearing up the dishes.

Tom limped back to his armchair to sit down for a moment, and Charles took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves so that he could dry the dishes. They worked silently until Charles glanced over at Tom. He nudged her shoulder, and she saw that Tom had dozed off in his chair.

Charles said, "He's weaker than I remember, and he's having a lot more trouble getting around."

"He seems to be very fond of you," Elsie said as she handed him another plate.

Charles smiled fondly, "He practically lived with us for a while. He's always been like an uncle to me."

"That's nice," she said quietly looking down into the water.

Charles turned her to face him and lifted her chin, "His story about Annie bothered you quite a bit, didn't it?"

She nodded and started to reach for his tie until she realized how wet and soapy her hands were, "I've thought at times about what it would be like if you," she hesitated over the word, "passed, but I never thought about how you might feel if something happened to me."

Ignoring her wet, soapy hands, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her forehead, "Elsie, dear, you shouldn't worry about that. I don't like to think of it either, but we'll each of us have to deal with it if and when it happens. The more pleasant memories we have, the easier it will be."

She nodded and grasped the back of his head to pull him down for a kiss. He pulled back after a few moments and said, "You're getting soap in my hair, you know."

"Pleasant memories, dear, pleasant memories."

Charles dipped his head to continue the kiss until they heard a cough from the sitting area, and Tom asked in an amused voice, "Are you almost done with the washing up, then?"

Elsie jumped and Charles pulled back sheepishly, "Not quite. We'll finish in a minute."

Once they'd finished and sat with Tom for another quarter of an hour or so, they rose and said their goodbyes. Charles promised to write and drop by again before their train left in the morning.

After they were settled in the cart and started down the road, she noticed absently that Charles seemed to be unusually excited and was smiling at her curiously. After a few moments, she blurted out the thought she'd been dwelling on, "Charles, I think we should get married."

"What?" he exclaimed staring at her in astonishment.

"Charles, the road," she said directing his attention back to the horse.

He pulled over to the side and set the brake on the cart, turning to her, "Did you just propose to me?"

She gave a little laugh, "I suppose I did. Well, answer me then. Don't keep me waiting."

Pulling her tight against him, he kissed her and then nuzzled her neck, "Yes, dear, the answer is yes. We'll be married as soon as we can get a license if it's up to me."

Breaking away from his attentions to her neck, he turned to look in the back of the cart for the basket and continued, "Actually, I was going to… Elsie, where are the raspberries?" he asked in alarm.

"I left them for Tom," she answered confused, "after all, we can always pick more, and he can't get out."

Charles growled and said, "For heaven's sake, woman. Couldn't you be just a little selfish this once?"

She looked at him in amazement as he turned the cart around to head back toward the village, "Charles, what's so important about a little basket of raspberries?"

"My mother's brooch is in there, a luckenbooth," he said through gritted teeth as he urged the horse to a trot, "I picked those berries for you this morning, and your sister helped me hide the brooch in them. I had planned to propose to you, again," he looked at her for emphasis, "on the way back. You beat me to it."

"However did your mother come to have a luckenbooth?"

"It's been in my father's family for a long time, passed down from mother to son," he said with a smile, "Of course, now it might be in Tom's belly."

"Surely he'd notice before he swallowed a brooch," she scoffed, "but perhaps you'd better hurry."

As they came in sight of Tom's cottage, they saw that he was sitting outside on the step. He stood at their approach and held out a small silver object to Charles, "I hope this doesn't mean you're proposing to me, Charlie, because you're not my type."

Charles took it from him gratefully and turned to Elsie with raised eyebrows. She nodded, and he pinned it above her left breast. He smiled at it for a moment before giving her a light kiss.

"Congratulations, Charlie. Best wishes, Elsie," Tom said with a wave, "Now head back toward the farm so you can kiss her proper."

Charles blushed and nodded before he turned the horse and cart around so that he could do just that.

_**I'm just going to continue on in my fluffy AU for a few more chapters, blissfully ignoring Series 2 spoilers, but I'll have them home soon so the girls can get up to their old tricks.**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**I'm still happily skipping along in my own AU. Hopefully, at least some of y'all are still enjoying it as well. -They still don't belong to me. I agree with Batwings79, if they did, they'd be having a lot more fun.**_

They returned to the farm just ahead of the rain, which Charles blamed on having to turn around for the luckenbooth Elsie had so generously given away along with the raspberries and which Elsie blamed on the frequent delays that Charles made in order to give her the proper kiss Tommy had suggested. Neither seemed to mind and Charles offered to leave Elsie at the door so that she wouldn't get wet, but she refused, not wanting to go in without him. She watched as he unhitched the horse, and he was preparing to rub it down until Davey came from the house to take over the job. Charles started to protest, but Davey cut him off.

"No; Mr. Carson, Mum wants you in right away, and it's more than my life is worth if you don't go."

Charles' amused glance at Elsie confirmed that she was thinking the same thing, "Alright Davey, we certainly wouldn't want you to get on your mother's bad side."

They ran in through the first drops of rain to face Sarah and David. Sarah, of course, noticed the brooch as soon as Elsie stepped through the door and gave a satisfied nod, "So, you said yes, then."

Elsie glanced wryly at Charles, "No; he did."

David laughed and Sarah looked sternly at Elsie, "Elsie Hughes! You proposed? You were not raised to be so forward."

Elsie merely looked at her with raised eyebrows and Sarah relented, "Well, I suppose the end result is what really matters."

After the happy couple received their congratulations, handshakes, and hugs, Sarah stepped over to the stove to finish their supper, and Elsie moved to help. They had a lovely supper of fresh fish after Davey came in and changed his dripping clothes. Charles and Elsie made sure to praise Davey for his fish, and he glowed under their praise. They both took turns describing the afternoon, and Charles found that he enjoyed hearing Elsie's perspective. David and Sarah both agreed that it was typical that Elsie would leave the raspberries behind. Charles nodded, "The most unselfish woman I've ever known." Elsie blushed from his praise and the earnestness of his gaze.

When the meal was finished, Charles, David, and Davey retired to the sitting area while the women finished clearing up. David gave Charles a small tumbler of whiskey and poured a little for himself, "So, one of the Hughes' girls caught you, Charles," he said with a smile, "I must say that I'll be happy to have you for an ally."

"The feeling is mutual," Charles answered, "Although, perhaps I should still tread carefully around Sarah until things are official."

David chuckled, "That's probably not a bad idea."

Elsie and Sarah came over at that time and Sarah asked, "What's not a bad idea?"

"Keeping you happy, love," David answered as he guided her to her rocking chair.

Charles nodded approvingly at the deftness with which he side-stepped the question before settling himself on the sofa beside Elsie. Davey stretched out on the floor with a book, and they all sat quietly for awhile enjoying the warmth of the room, the sound of the rain on the windows, and digesting their supper. Charles enjoyed the feel of Elsie's arm and leg pressed against his side and her shoulder under his hand. He found himself listening to the sound of her voice as she spoke with David and Sarah without really listening to the words. Focusing his attention again, he realized that she was telling them about the girls' pranks, and he smiled as he remembered the notes as well as her pleasure in the chocolate. He was drawn out of his reverie by Davey's question.

"Are they pretty?"

"Who?" Charles asked confused.

"The girls who sent you the notes, are they pretty?"

"Now Davey they are at a very different station than…" he began and trailed off as he saw Elsie watching him carefully, "Yes; they are pretty, I suppose, but you shouldn't be thinking of such things yet."

Elsie nodded and said, "You probably wouldn't like them anyway, Davey. They wouldn't know anything about cooking."

"Peter's brother says that cooking's not important if a girl's very pretty."

Charles and David both roared with laughter while Elsie and Sarah looked quite irritated.

David finally said through chuckles, "Peter's brother will likely think different when he's eaten burnt, boiled potatoes for two weeks straight," then seeing Sarah's dark look, he added, "Of course, I was lucky enough to get a pretty lass who's the best cook in the village."

Charles nodded again. David was certainly skilled at deflection.

Sarah sent Davey off to bed after that as she grumbled about having a talk with Peter's mother.

After Davey was safely in his room, Sarah asked Elsie about the wedding while David asked Charles about Tom.

"He looked much weaker than I remember, but he still seemed to be in good spirits," he answered David, but found himself distracted by the hint of strain he heard in Elsie's voice, "…don't know when we'll be able to…"

He answered David again while trying to hear Elsie's next words, "I'm sure he'd be glad of a visit from you, and I would certainly appreciate anything you could do for him. He's almost like family to me. I'm not sure how much help he would accept, however."

The strain in Elsie's voice had increased "…not really discussed whether we would leave…"

David asked him another question, but he didn't hear it as his attention was now fully on Elsie. He held up his hand and said, "Sarah, David, please excuse us. I believe we need to discuss some things."

Matching his actions to his words, he rose and held his hand out to help Elsie up. The rain was still beating against the window, so he directed her to her bedroom for a little privacy. In the periphery of his vision, he could see David with his hand on Sarah's arm to still her protest.

Once he'd shut the door firmly behind them, Elsie turned to him with arms wrapped tight across her chest, "Charles, I'm perfectly capable of dealing with Sarah. I don't need …."

Holding up his hands in surrender, he said, "I never said that you weren't. But am I wrong in thinking that Sarah was asking some incredibly difficult questions?"

"To say the least," Elsie said with a rueful smile as her arms relaxed a little.

He extracted her hand so that he could hold it gently and ran his thumb over her knuckles as he strove to find the right words, "Do you want to leave Downton?"

"No!" she answered quickly, "That is, I've never had a better position, Lord and Lady Grantham are excellent employers. I enjoy the girls. Of course, I'm rather fond of some of my colleagues as well," she added squeezing his hand gently, "We've discussed this before, Charles."

"I know that. I seem to recall that it was one of the reasons you gave for not wanting to marry me, yet," he said with raised eyebrows, "Elsie, we both know that if our marriage is made known then you would almost certainly lose your position, and I might very well lose mine. The only way to be sure we could remain would be to keep our relationship secret. Are you sure you'd want to do that?" he asked, tilting her chin up with the tips of his fingers so that he could watch her eyes for the answer.

"Charles," she said with a half smile, "we've done a pretty good job of keeping things secret so far. At least now if we were discovered, there would be a little less of a scandal. I don't think I could really be happy alone all day with nothing to occupy my time. What would I do with myself alone in a house while you went off to work each day? And if you remained there as butler, your days would be very long indeed."

He nodded and then said, "Then we either remain and keep our marriage secret, or we leave together."

"The choice seems simple then," she said as she straightened his tie, "I will never ask you to leave your home."

He smiled in gratitude and placed his hand on her waist, drawing her closer, "Now, I had thought to discuss this next bit with you after they'd gone to bed, but Sarah's interrogation made me want to ask you now."

She watched him curiously as he took a deep breath and continued, "It occurred to me that, if you wish, we might be able to remain here another day. If we did that, I could possibly obtain the license, and we could be married the day after tomorrow before our train leaves. Unfortunately, that would mean forgoing our time alone."

He had to admit that he was somewhat pleased to see the look of disappointment flicker across her face, "But, Charles, I, that is, we were looking forward to that day, _and night_," she emphasized, "very much. Are you sure you'd want to give that up?"

"Believe me, I was looking forward to that night very much myself," he said smiling ruefully, "but this would mean that Tommy, Tom," he corrected himself, "and your family could witness our wedding. Unfortunately, it would mean that our honeymoon would be spent _working_ at Downton."

She thought about his proposition for a few moments while he continued his gentle strokes over her knuckles. Finally, pulling his arm tighter around her, she asked, "Have I told you today that I love you dearly?"

"Well, I rather thought that was implied with the proposal," he answered smiling, "does this mean you want to stay and be married here?"

"It would be wonderful to have them with us," she agreed, and he drew her close for a gentle kiss which she quickly deepened. When she finally pulled away, he found himself breathless and almost overwhelmed. She reached for the doorknob, and he grasped her hand to stop her.

"I'll need a few minutes before we go back out there," he said and added warningly as she leaned toward him for another kiss, "I know you know what I mean, Elsie."

Stepping toward her dressing table, she said, "I suppose I should fix my hair, too. Sarah's probably already in a state. Who knows what she'd do if I went out with my hair mussed?"

"She could always insist we get married immediately," he quipped, "Surely she won't kill me before the wedding."

Elsie merely looked at him in the mirror and raised her eyebrows.

He smiled nervously and said, "I think I'm ready to go out now."

Stepping out of the bedroom, Charles saw that Sarah was angrily clicking away at her knitting while David was calmly reading a book. He decided to address himself to his ally.

"David, we wonder if we might impose upon your hospitality for just one more night."

Elsie answered Sarah's questioning look, "Charles would like to try to obtain a license and get married here the day after tomorrow, if we are able."

Sarah stood and walked toward the kitchen, "I'll see what I need for your cake, and Charles can pick it up in the village tomorrow."

David stood as well, "You certainly don't want to waste time, do you? I'll go with you in the morning to try to ease things."

Charles smiled in relief, "Well, when a man is lucky enough to catch one of these Hughes' girls, he certainly shouldn't let her get away."

Sarah returned from the kitchen with her list for Charles and David said, "Well, since it looks like we'll have a busy day, Sarah and I will be off to bed. Sleep well, and we'll see you in the morning."

Charles didn't miss that David did not tell him _where_ to sleep well, but he was still determined to spend the night on the sofa.

They sat together on the sofa as before, all the lamps extinguished now and the only light from the low fire. Elsie was pressed close to his side, and he stroked her shoulder gently. After they'd sat enjoying each other for a time, Elsie began to shift uncomfortably. He looked at her curiously and she said, "I'm sorry. My corset is digging into my ribs."

"Mmm. Maybe you should go on to bed then."

"No, I want to stay here with you for a little while longer. We won't see each other much tomorrow."

"Why don't you go change into your nightdress and come back here?" he suggested.

"Don't you think that would be dangerous?"

"No, I think it would be dangerous if I came to help," he smiled, "Elsie, we've both agreed that we won't do anything here. I'm certainly not going to ravish you on the sofa where anyone, including Davey, might interrupt."

She kissed his cheek and rose, going to her bedroom. While she was gone, he put another log on the fire and undressed himself down to trousers and undershirt. He almost regretted his suggestion when she returned. He'd forgotten how clearly he could see the swell of her breasts and the shadow of her nipples under her nightdress. Sitting down quickly, he focused his attention on the fire. She settled at his side again with his arm draped over her shoulders. Now he could feel her breast against his side as well as her thigh against his own. Turning his head he laid his cheek on her hair and noticed that she'd not removed all the hairpins. Lifting his hand from her shoulder, he removed the last few and ran his fingers through her hair, smoothing it down her neck. She murmured in contentment, "I know how you like to take the pins out of my hair."

Placing the pins on the table beside the sofa, he turned back to her and wrapped his other arm around her, drawing her closer to kiss along her jaw and to nip lightly behind her ear. Lifting his hand from her waist, he undid just a few of the buttons of her nightdress so that he could reach her collarbone and he gently sucked the skin there. Drawing back, he knew that if he didn't stop he was going to forget himself and do just what he'd promised not to. He sat back against the sofa and watched the fire, trying to catch his breath. Elsie thankfully did not press him but merely placed her head on his shoulder and draped her arm loosely across his chest.

Her breath hitched, and he tilted her head to see that a few tears were shining in her eyes. "Elsie, I've not upset you, have I? You know that I want you very much."

"No; it's not that," she said smiling sadly through her tears, "Charles, you said I wasn't selfish, but I am. This afternoon with Tom made me realize that I never want to lose you. I'm very selfish. I don't want you to be the first to go, because I don't want to be left alone."

Kissing her forehead, he said, "Elsie, that's not selfish. That's honest. I don't want to be left alone either. If it helps, I promise I'll be there with you when your time comes. No matter what."

"Charles, you can't promise that. What if…"

"Then I'll be waiting for you. I'll be with you either on that side or this, no matter which of us goes first."

She nodded her understanding and squeezed his hand, "Then, I promise I'll be with you, too. On that side or this."

He clutched her shoulder a little tighter and her arm tightened around his chest. She returned her head to his shoulder, and he started to dose until a thought hit him and he chuckled.

She lifted her head to look at him, and he said, "It just struck me that I'll never be able to make love to Elsie Hughes again."

"What do you mean?" she asked genuinely confused.

"Because the next time, love, you'll be Elsie Carson," he said drawing her head back to his shoulder and drawing lazy circles on hers. She laughed softly against his chest, and they dosed off together listening to the rain against the window.

_**Unlike Elsie, I am very selfish and always appreciate reviews.**_

_**A/N: I have had a very difficult time finding what the marriage laws were in the UK around the turn of the 20**__**th**__** century. I know that there was a waiting time in the Regency period, and I believe there is one now. I also know that to be married in the C of E has always required the banns to be read over the course of three Sundays and a waiting period. However, I think there was a time from around 1850 on that one could obtain a license from the Registrar's office and be married after 24 hours. I decided that since my fic is improbably improbable anyway that I would just go with that. If that doesn't work, I might have **__**Doctor Who**__** come in and take them back in time so they don't miss too much time at Downton, or a time warp, or something; anything so that they can be married with Elsie's family and Tommy there. If someone out there knows the truth feel free to PM me and enlighten me. **_


	17. Chapter 17

**Still living in my own private AU. I own nothing and am earning nothing from them. I hope that y'all are still enjoying this. **

Sarah awoke the next morning a little earlier than usual, knowing that there was a lot to be done. David would have to get the morning work done quickly if he was going to help Charles with getting the marriage license. Given how early Charles had risen the day before she was a little surprised that she didn't hear him stirring around in the other room. She was even more surprised when she stepped through her bedroom door to see him sprawled on the couch with her sister draped over him wearing nothing but her nightdress. She was a little angry before she realized that they had obviously not done anything but sleep because Charles was still mostly dressed, sitting half upright with his cheek resting on Elsie's hair. Then spotting Elsie's neck she saw that they had got up to a little something after all. The angle of Charles' head meant that he'd likely have an almighty cramp in his neck when he did wake, which gave her some satisfaction.

Walking into the kitchen she clanged the door on the stove open just a little more vigorously than usual, and Charles started awake with a grunt and a groan as he rubbed his neck. Turning to the noise of the stove, he winced and grabbed his neck again. His eyes widened in surprise, and he stood quickly, waking Elsie. Sarah's eyes widened when she saw the purple mark just above his undershirt. _Did the girl have no restraint at all?_ She closed her eyes and reminded herself that Elsie was a grown woman (42 for goodness sake) and would be married tomorrow. Thank goodness. She didn't think her nerves could stand much more. When she re-opened her eyes she saw that Charles was draping a blanket over Elsie's shoulders. "Um, Charles, I think you had best put your collar on before Davey sees that. I wouldn't want him to get any ideas. And for heaven's sake, Elsie, go to your room and make sure your collar's buttoned as well."

They both had the good grace to look abashed although Charles turned absolutely crimson. Well, he should have thought of the consequences before he let her sister sleep practically on top of him. She turned back to the stove and ensured that she had a good fire going. By the time she had a kettle of water to heat on the stove, Charles was fully dressed and coming into the kitchen. He winced each time he turned his head, and she noticed that he walked a little stiffly, too. His back probably had a cramp as well. She thought that it served him right. Men his age weren't supposed to sleep like that.

"Is there anything I can do to help, Sarah?" he asked and winced as he turned to look at her.

She sighed, he was going to be her brother-in-law after all and had apparently shown remarkable restraint if Elsie had all but thrown herself at him in her nightdress. "You could wake Davey for me, if you like."

Then seeing him wince again as he turned toward Davey's door, she took pity on him, "I have some lineament in that cabinet," she indicated with a jerk of her head. When he had taken the tin she added, "Just don't have Elsie rub it on you."

"No, of course not, thank you," he said with ears tinting faintly pink.

* * *

><p>As soon as David stepped out of their bedroom, he knew Sarah was angry. He could tell by the set of her shoulders and the way she was stirring the porridge. He wondered what on earth could have her so upset this early. Stepping up behind her he put his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek lightly, "What's wrong?"<p>

She turned to look at him, exasperated, "When I came out of our room this morning, I found Charles and Elsie on the sofa."

He almost gaped at her. He'd certainly not expected that.

"No; not like that. I'm sure that all they did was sleep. Well, almost all they did," she finished darkly.

"Almost all?"

She glanced toward Davey's door and whispered, "They both had a _mark_ about here," indicating her neck.

He laughed. "Is that all? Do I need to remind you, love, what we did on the night we were engaged?"

Her cheeks tinted becomingly, "This is different. This is my sister."

"And the man that she is going to marry tomorrow," he emphasized, "We could hardly insist on anything sooner. Leave them be."

"Humph, not a moment too soon in my opinion," she said as she turned back to the porridge.

He grasped her bottom and punctuated his words with kisses behind her ear, "Leave them be."

Charles stepped out of Davey's room at almost the same time Elsie came from hers. David was pleased to see Charles bend down to kiss her lightly on the forehead before whispering something in her ear which made her smile. He was glad to see that this man could make Elsie smile. She certainly deserved it, and a little bit of canoodling on his sofa wasn't going to change his opinion of him. Given the freedom he and Sarah had given them, he was impressed with his restraint. Davey came out of his room as well, and the three of them went to the barn leaving the two sisters alone.

Charles winced a little when he turned to speak to him. David couldn't help himself, "Do you have a cramp in your neck? Sarah said she found you in an awkward position this morning."

He laughed at the look of surprise on Charles' face and Charles started to explain, "David, I would never-, in your home-, that is, we were just talking last night and dosed off. I'm sorry that we upset Sarah."

"Charles, it's fine," he reassured him, "After all, you're getting married tomorrow. Although I must say, from what Sarah said it's a good thing you wear those high collars."

Charles opened his mouth to speak and then closed it, obviously unable to think of anything to say.

* * *

><p>Davey watched his Da and Mr. Carson laughing while he and they worked. He knew that Mr. Carson and his father were going today to get a license so that he could marry his Aunt Elsie. Overall, he was fairly happy with the idea. It would be nice to have an uncle instead of just an aunt, and he seemed interesting. He knew a little of how to do things, but it was obvious that he hadn't worked on a farm in a long time. A little curiously, he wondered just what butlers did do. He would have to remember to ask later.<p>

Frowning to himself, he wondered why his mother was angry this morning. For some reason she had sent Mr. Carson in to wake him. He knew she was angry by the way she stirred the porridge. He was fairly sure that it hadn't been anything he had done. Da had been hugging her before they came outside, so he didn't think she could be mad at him. Surely she wouldn't be mad at Mr. Carson. What could he have done? Maybe she was just upset that Aunt Elsie was getting married, although that seemed odd. Shrugging, he decided that as long as she wasn't mad at him, he'd be alright.

They finished the morning chores and got the cart ready. He would come out and hitch the horse after breakfast so that Mr. Carson and his Da could go to town. Walking up to the front door, he heard his Mum shouting, "…in your nightdress for heaven's sake…"

Mr. Carson and his Da just looked at each other. Mr. Carson looked a little white. Then he heard his aunt, "…the man who is to be my husband…"

His Da looked at him and said, "Davey, maybe you should go on back out to the barn."

He protested, "Da, there's nothing left to …"

"Davey go hitch the horse to the cart," his Da said firmly, "Charles, you go with him."

Mr. Carson shook his head slightly, wincing again, "I think I should probably go in as well."

Then he heard his Mum's raised voice again, and he decided he wouldn't mind going out to the barn after all. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw Mr. Carson and his Da take a deep breath and open the door.

* * *

><p>Charles stepped into the room to see that Elsie was standing calmly with her hands crossed in front of her, and she was speaking to her sister in a quiet but firm voice which he knew meant that she was very angry indeed. Sarah, however, was standing with hands on hips and slightly flushed. Thankfully neither seemed to have a weapon.<p>

Stepping to Elsie's side, Charles addressed Sarah, "Sarah, I apologize for upsetting you. We had no intention of sleeping together, but we were both very tired and simply dosed off. The blame should be entirely on me. I hope that you will forgive me for imposing on your hospitality in this way."

Sarah started to speak, but David put his hand on her arm and gave her a warning glance. She nodded stiffly and said, "That's quite alright, Charles. Thank you for apologizing."

Charles turned to Elsie, wincing as his head turned, and saw that she was still angry and her dark look was directed at him now. "Elsie, could I speak to you alone for a moment?" he asked and directed her toward her bedroom.

She stepped through the door and turned on him, "Charles Carson, I have no need of your protection from my sister, and furthermore…." She trailed off as she saw him wince again. "What on earth is wrong with you?"

Grabbing his neck, he groaned through gritted teeth, "I have a horrible cramp in my neck. It clinches up every time I turn my head. A man my age isn't supposed to sleep in a position like that."

She directed him to the bed and said, "Sit down and I'll try to rub the cramp out for you."

Looking at the bed and then her with raised eyebrows he asked, "Do you really think that's a good idea?"

Smacking him lightly on the arm, she said, "Charles, you have a one track mind. Sit down."

He chuckled as he sat down and drew the tin of lineament from his pocket, "Well, your sister did give me this to rub on it, but I was specifically instructed not to let you do it," he opened the tin and sniffed it gingerly pulling his head away in disgust, "This smells awful. I can't go out in public like this."

Elsie took a sniff as she was rubbing his neck and agreed, "She probably thought it would be some kind of 'Elsie-repellant'. No wonder your neck hurts. It's knotted up tight."

He hummed in pleasure at the release of tension from his neck, "That feels wonderful."

She smacked his arm lightly again, "Not so loud. We're supposed to be talking in here, remember?"

He laughed again, "Elsie, I'm sorry if I made you angry by stepping in, but I just wanted the argument to stop. Tomorrow is going to be our wedding day," he sighed again in relief before continuing, "The only wedding day I ever intend to have. I don't want anything to mar our happiness."

Her hands paused on his neck for a moment before squeezing a little harder, "Thank you, Charles. I'll try to swallow my pride a little as well. "

Charles cleared his throat before continuing with his next suggestion, "I think I'm going to try to find a room either at the pub or with Tommy for tonight."

"Why?" she asked disappointed turning him to look at her.

"Because I don't want a repeat of this morning for one thing and for another, I'd like to have a good night's sleep and no cramp in my neck before our wedding night. As you pointed out, I have no intention of sleeping tomorrow night," he finished smiling.

She leaned forward to kiss him, "I'd rather have you here, but I see your point. Does your neck feel better?"

"Much better, thank you, and no 'Elsie-repellant'," he smiled as he stood and held his hand out to her, "Now, let's have some breakfast."

* * *

><p>After breakfast which was quiet but the glares had at least decreased, Charles and David headed toward the village in the cart. Once they were a short distance from the house, David turned to Charles, "Have you thought of how you're going to get the license?"<p>

"No; I suppose I just thought I'd throw myself on the mercy of the registrar."

"I don't know if that will work. Here, the registrar is the vicar, and he's a bit of a stickler."

"Do you think he'd be open to a bribe?" Charles asked.

"You're that eager?"

"It would make Elsie happy to be married here with you and Sarah present," Charles said, "Also, we don't intend to reveal our marriage at Downton. Getting married this far away would certainly help with that."

David grunted, "It's a shame that you have to do that."

Charles nodded, "I suppose so, but it is the reality. We've been very discreet up to this point. We'll just continue to be so."

David smiled, "I do have an idea for getting the license, if you're interested?"

"Go on."

"Well, I could tell the vicar that you traveled here alone with my sister-in-law and will be returning alone tomorrow. I could then tell him that Sarah found you in an awkward position this morning, but you have expressed a willingness to marry and we are eager to see you do so before you leave."

Charles nodded thoughtfully and grinned, "All absolutely true, of course," then shook his head, "I'd not want any rumors started about Elsie."

"Ahhh. There I would use Sarah. Her temper is well-known. I would indicate that she would be very unhappy if any stories were circulated."

Charles smiled at him and clapped him on the back, "You, sir, are devious. I am very happy to have you on my side."

**_Reviews are welcome as always. _**


	18. Chapter 18

**_Continuing in my AU. They still don't belong to me, and I'm not making anything from them. _**

As they approached the village, David turned to Charles, "I think you should try to look a little rakish."

"Rakish?" he asked, "How am I supposed to look rakish? And why?"

David chuckled a little, "Well, you are supposed to have seduced my innocent sister-in-law. You could wear your hat at a bit of an angle," he suggested.

Charles snorted at the thought of Elsie being 'innocent' and set his hat forward and to the side just a little, raising his eyebrows at David in question.

David laughed and shook his head ruefully, "No; that will never work. I guess I'll just have to act angry, and perhaps you should try to appear reluctant."

"I thought the whole idea was that I'm not reluctant at all," Charles quipped

"Well, just reluctant to get married," David said with emphasis on the last word.

"Oh; I'll try, but I can't make any promises," Charles said smiling, "I'm not sure if I'm that good of an actor."

David stopped the cart for a moment and looked at Charles, "Charles, I don't have any sisters of my own so Elsie has been the only sister I've ever known. I've known her almost as long as I've known Sarah. I'm glad to see that you make her happy," then he paused looking at Charles thoughtfully, "You know about our Bess?"

Charles nodded somberly, "I remember Elsie was gone for a full week just a couple of years after she came to Downton. Your brother came to fetch her, I believe. I was a little jealous until I knew who he was, and why he'd come."

"Yes; she loved little Bess. I didn't want her to get news like that in a letter or a telegram. Sarah was almost undone when our girl died. I don't know what would have happened if Elsie hadn't come. She just came in and took care of everything. She saved Sarah, I believe."

Charles nodded again, that's exactly what he would have expected, "I'm sorry David."

"Yes; well, I told you that so you'd understand my next words," he looked at him seriously, "If you ever harm Elsie in any way or upset her enough that she feels the need to write to us, I will personally come to Downton and thrash you to within an inch of your life."

Charles looked at him squarely and answered him just as seriously, "You will never have to do that."

David smiled as he urged the horse to continue, "I don't expect to."

A quarter hour later, Charles was standing uncomfortably in front of the vicar's desk feeling like a schoolboy caught in a bit of mischief. A gray haired man was looking at him sternly over half-moon glasses, "And this is Elsie Hughes you were with? The Elsie Hughes who used to live in this parish."

Charles couldn't keep himself from blushing. He knew he'd done nothing wrong, but this man certainly made him feel that he had. David thankfully stepped in to save him.

"Now, vicar, nothing actually happened. It's just that they seem to be very eager, and we'd like to see them married before they leave here alone tomorrow. We certainly wouldn't want anything to happen to threaten our Elsie's honor."

The vicar watched him carefully for a few more uncomfortable moments, "Could you not just travel separately?"

Charles answered quickly, "No; sir, we could not. It's my duty to protect Miss Hughes as she travels. I won't let her travel back alone."

"And who's going to protect her from you?" he asked wryly.

Charles' anger flared, but David put his hand on his arm before he could speak.

David turned to the vicar, "We're not at all concerned about Mr. Carson's treatment of Elsie. If we were, we wouldn't approve of the match. Elsie seems to like him, and he is willing to marry her. It seems to me the best solution would be to have them marry as soon as possible."

The vicar looked down at his desk for a moment and asked, "You're sure there is no impediment to marriage for either party? Neither of you has a spouse now living."

"I've never been married."

"And I have known Elsie since she was fourteen. She's never been married," David answered quickly.

He sighed, "Give me a moment to think about this."

They stepped into the hall outside his office. David looked at Charles exasperated, "You're no better than Sarah. Can you not hold onto your temper a little better than that? And did you not remember what I said about appearing a little reluctant?"

Charles paused in his pacing to look at David, "What was that about us being 'very eager'? I think we've been restrained while we've been here."

David snorted, "I saw you two out by the fence on your first day here. That certainly didn't look 'restrained' to me."

Charles' ears tinted just a little, and he opened his mouth to speak, but then the door opened.

* * *

><p>Sarah and Elsie started preparations for dinner shortly after Charles and David set off toward the village. David had been instructed to bring Tom back with him for a proper engagement dinner. Sarah took the unpleasant task of preparing the chicken while Elsie began work on the vegetables. When Sarah was finished preparing the chicken, she came back into the kitchen and began to help Elsie peel vegetables. "What do you think Charles would like for dessert?"<p>

Elsie smiled and said, "Well, he's particularly fond of chocolate, but I don't suppose cocoa would be sufficient."

Sarah laughed, "Well, I suppose we could, but David would probably want something more substantial."

Elsie thought back to their picnic with the girls and said, "Maybe an apple tart, and I could make candied carrots."

"That sounds good, but I should probably start on my crusts."

Getting out the makings for her pastry, Sarah paused, "Elsie, you know that I really do like Charles, don't you?"

Elsie snorted, "It's obvious. You've threatened him with a knife, interrogated him, and almost made him put on some horrible smelling lineament. Of course you like him."

"The lineament was to help his neck, and I didn't threaten him with a knife, I was just holding it while I was talking to him," Sarah said defensively.

Elsie clicked her tongue, "Sarah!"

Continuing to work with the flour, Sarah said, "You're the only sister I have. I certainly don't want a man to just, just _use_ you."

Elsie stopped so that she could look at Sarah squarely and explained patiently, "Sarah; Charles, dear man that he is, couldn't _use _someone if he tried. I've known him for eleven years now and as frustrating as he can be sometimes, one could never ask for a more loyal or steadfast friend, or husband, I suppose."

"Good. You deserve nothing less," Sarah responded softly, nudging Elsie with her shoulder.

Elsie laughed, "Poor man, he looked like he had a twitch this morning."

"You should have seen his face when he realized that I had seen you two," Sarah laughed back, "I've never seen a man stand so quickly or turn quite that red."

"I wish I could have seen the look on his face when you were holding that knife," Elsie said laughing a little more.

Sarah looked at her seriously, "I would never have known he was frightened. All he did was turn to me and said that he intended to love, honor, and cherish you as long as he lived."

"Is that what he said? He just told me that he told you the truth," Elsie said surprised, "Dear, sweet man."

After a few moments, Sarah asked curiously, "Why did you not marry him when he asked before? And don't tell me it's all about not leaving Downton. The same applies now, and you're perfectly happy to marry him."

Elsie was quiet long enough that Sarah was sure that she wasn't going to answer, then she began softly, "He asked after we had been _closer_ for just over a year. One of the girls locked us in the cellar while we were having a disagreement," she smiled down at the carrots at the memory, "I told him that we could marry when the need arose," looking over at Sarah she saw she understood her meaning, "I thought it would surely happen in a matter of months. It still hasn't," she finished flatly.

Sarah nudged her shoulder again, "I'm sorry, Elsie, but surely you know that Charles wants you for yourself with or without children."

"Of course I do," Elsie smiled sadly, "He always has. Now, I can see the value in being married as well."

Sarah raised her eyebrows in question.

"For starters, we won't have to worry about you watching our every move," Elsie said laughing.

"No, because you'll be together in that room there and not out here on my sofa," Sarah said with mock sternness, "I still don't know what possessed you to be out here in your nightdress," she said shaking her head.

"Sarah!"

Sarah continued her teasing, "Of course if I'd known at the time, I'd have left you alone. He certainly couldn't have gotten up to anything with all that twitching."

* * *

><p>Davey had spent most of the day outdoors. He had some chores that needed doing, and then after this morning he thought it would be best if he just stayed away from his Mum and Aunt. He had a book to read and some exploring that needed doing. Thankfully, when he went in for lunch, his Mum was laughing. They must have gotten over whatever they were fighting about.<p>

Sitting in the loft reading his book, he saw the cart coming down the road in the late afternoon. His Da and Mr. Carson had another man with them who looked rather small sitting next to Mr. Carson. Climbing down, he ran in to tell his Mum and Aunt Elsie. His aunt took off her apron and went to her room quickly to clean up. His Mum just checked on the chicken and took the apple tart from the oven to cool. They were certainly going to eat well tonight.

Going back outside, he saw that his Da was just pulling up. Mr. Carson stepped down and helped the smaller man who looked a good bit older and had a cane. His Aunt Elsie came out of the house then and walked over to Mr. Carson who pulled a stiff piece of paper from his jacket pocket to show to her. She looked very happy. What could be so important about a piece of paper?

* * *

><p>Charles introduced Tom to Sarah and then listened as politely as he could manage to their exchange of pleasantries. He wanted to speak to Elsie alone. Unfortunately dinner was almost finished and there would be no time until after. Davey unhitched the cart and tended to the horse while he helped Tom inside. David brought in the provisions Sarah had requested, and the three men sat down before the fireplace waiting for the meal. Charles turned on the sofa so that he could speak to Tom and watch Elsie work in the kitchen. He was glad to see that she and Sarah seemed to have made up. There shouldn't be a rift between two sisters who were so close. Tom nudged his elbow, "Charlie, have you heard a word we've said in the past five minutes?"<p>

"Of course I have, I was just a little distracted for a moment."

David laughed, "Well, I'm glad you've been paying such close attention. You've just agreed that Tom has lovely eyes and a pretty smile."

Charles looked at his friend sternly, "You are most certainly not my type. And that, sir, was taking unfair advantage."

"You're right. It was," Tom agreed with a laugh, "Watch your Elsie."

Dinner was fortunately ready by this time, and he was seated beside Elsie. The others carried on a lively conversation with Davey asking Tom question after question. He found it extremely difficult to concentrate on anything but Elsie and the feel of her arm occasionally brushing his while she ate. Shifting his leg so that it lay close beside hers earned him a glance and small smile. Halfway through the meal, he realized that it was very similar to another he'd had and he said so to Elsie in low tones which earned him another smile. He finished his apple tart with relish and tried to plan a way to get Elsie alone.

Surprisingly it was Sarah who rescued him, "Elsie, why don't you and Charles take a walk? Davey can help me with the clearing up."

Nodding in relief at Sarah, Charles said, "That seems like an excellent idea." He stood perhaps a little quicker than usual but did manage to not actually run out the door.

David smiled at him slyly, "Perhaps you could walk out to that old fence."

Charles just gave him an irritated glance while he picked up his hat and held the door for Elsie. Stepping outside he offered her his arm which she took gladly, and he drew her arm close to his side. She looked up at him and said, "So, nine o'clock tomorrow."

He nodded, "And we'd better be prompt. I'd not want to get on the vicar's bad side."

"Was it difficult to get the license?"

"Not very. You're brother-in-law has a devious mind."

"Oh?"

"He merely spoke of how you and I would be traveling alone tomorrow, and of his and Sarah's concern because I appeared to be very eager for you."

She looked at him in dismay, "The vicar thinks this is a forced marriage?"

"No; not at all. As a matter of fact, he wouldn't agree until he was sure that I cared for you very much."

"That's good," she said then looked up at him mischeviously, "Are you very eager for me?"

He stopped to turn her to face him, "I should think that was obvious."

"Perhaps," she said, "And perhaps sometimes it's just nice to hear."

Drawing her to him, he said, "Elsie, I've wanted you for my wife for a long time, and I'm looking forward to tomorrow night very much. These past few days of having to be restrained have definitely left me 'very eager'." And he bent to kiss her slowly, gently exploring her mouth with his tongue, losing himself in the feel of her arms around his neck and chest pressed against his.

Pulling back breathlessly, she whispered, "Kisses like that have me 'very eager' as well. I just wish our wedding night wasn't going to be spent at Downton."

He smiled and nuzzled her neck, rubbing his hands over her back. "Tom and I will need to leave soon."

"You're still determined to spend the night with him?" she sighed as she tilted her head to the side.

"I think that I'd better. I don't know that I could resist you again tonight. Besides, you aren't supposed to see me tomorrow."

She laughed, "I think it's you that's not supposed to see me. You might change your mind."

He chuckled against her neck, "I don't think there's much chance of that."

Lifting his head, he smiled down at her, "Let me kiss Elsie Hughes one last time, and we'll go in."

Bending again, they kissed, she drew him closer with her hands on his shoulders, and he grasped her bottom drawing her against him. Then as they broke apart, he kissed her again lightly once more before they joined their family.

**_Reviews are always greatly appreciated. Let me know if I just need to get out of my AU and back into the real world or at least Julian Fellowes' world._**


	19. Chapter 19

_**I still do not own them, obviously and am earning nothing from them. With apologies to Miss Puppet, I stole Elsie's full name from her as well. I'll get them back to Downton soon, I promise.**_

Charles had been awake since his customary 4:30 and was anxiously watching the clock. He had started a fire in the stove and set a large kettle of water on it to heat. By 6:30, he'd gone for a walk, fed the horse, brushed the horse, washed thoroughly, shaved carefully, dressed, packed his bag and was now on his third cup of tea. He was settling down to read a book when Tom walked out of his bedroom.

"Charlie," he admonished, "you do realize that you have over two hours until we have to be at the church which is barely fifteen minutes away."

"Yes, of course I do," Charles replied, "I'm just used to waking up early. I'm not used to having nothing to do, however."

"It has absolutely nothing to do with being nervous, then?" Tom asked.

"No! I'm not nervous a bit," he scoffed, "Why do you ask?"

"You're holding that book upside down," Tom stated flatly.

"Oh," Charles said sheepishly laying the book down in disgust, "I'm not nervous. I'm just ready for this to be over."

"Get out the chess board, you need something to distract you," Tom said with a smile as he poured himself a cup of tea.

After beating Charles soundly in just ten minutes, Tom smiled, "Charlie, you must be distracted. I've not been able to beat you that quickly since you were a boy."

Charles smiled at him ruefully, "Tommy, I know it's silly, but I can't help thinking that she might not come."

"That is very silly," Tom said smiling broadly, "I've seen how she looks at you. She'll come."

Charles grinned, "How does she look at me?"

"Like my Annie used to look at me," Tom said smile dimming just a little, "Like you're the only man in the world."

"Hopefully, she doesn't look at me like that at Downton," Charles answered grimly.

"Why don't you leave?"

"We both enjoy our jobs. I've been there so long; it would seem like leaving family. Besides, where would we go?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'd find something," Tom answered thoughtfully.

Charles looked up at the clock, "Well, you've done a good job. At least it's 7 o'clock now. Maybe I should shine my shoes."

"Your shoes look fine, and if you do that you might get your trousers dirty. Set up the board again. I want to beat you as many times as possible while you're distracted."

At a quarter past eight, they heard a wagon stop outside. "Charles, that's probably them bringing the things for the breakfast. You should go to the bedroom."

Looking at Tom in amazement, he asked, "Whatever for?"

"You're not supposed to see your bride before the wedding. It's bad luck, you know that."

Standing to walk toward the bedroom, he asked, "Are you sure it's not bad luck for her to see me?'

Once the door was safely shut behind Charles, Tom opened the door to find David, Sarah and Davey standing there.

Elsie was still in the wagon, so that there would be no risk of Charles spotting her. Rolling her eyes, she thought how silly this was. Glancing over at the house, she saw Charles through the open bedroom window. She smiled as she watched him pacing and decided to risk making Sarah upset for the chance to talk to him. Walking over and standing to the side, she tapped on the sill. She heard the pause in his step and then he walked to the window, "Hello?"

"Hello, Charles."

"Elsie! What are you doing out there?"

"I was left in the wagon while they brought the breakfast things in so that you wouldn't see me," she said smiling.

He pulled the curtains together, "I was sent to the bedroom, so that I wouldn't see you or maybe so that you wouldn't see me. I'm still not sure."

"Are you still eager?"

"Definitely," he answered from behind the curtains leaning beside the window, "Are you blushing?"

"No," she replied cheeks tinting faintly pink, "Are you nervous?"

Giving a little laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck, he said, "No; not at all. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, but I woke a little early. Did you sleep well?"

"Reasonably well, the settee is a bit short, and I woke a little early as well."

"Your neck feels better, though?"

"Much better. I don't think it will interfere with the after at all."

"Good, I'm looking forward to the after."

Deciding that he needed to change the subject he asked, "Do you have all the necessary items?"

"Necessary items?"

"Something old, something new …"

"Oh; yes, the luckenbooth would be something old, Sarah gave me a new handkerchief, and I'm wearing something blue," she answered.

"What about something borrowed and a lucky sixpence for your shoe?"

A little surprised, she said, "I forgot about the sixpence!"

"Here, I'll see if…" he said and she heard the clinking of coins, "Ah, there we go." Pushing his hand through the curtain, he held it out to her. Placing it in her palm, he stroked her wrist lightly with his fingertips and then grasped her hand gently.

"But is it a lucky one?" she asked smile in her voice.

"It is now," he answered the same smile in his voice, "and if you give it back to me after, it can be something borrowed as well."

"Are you that cheap?" she asked still smiling.

"Frugal," he corrected, holding up his finger, "No; I would just like to have a memento," then looking at his watch, he said, "I'd better be going. I need to get to the church so I can wait for my bride. Don't look as I come out the door," he admonished, "You're not supposed to see me."

"I'm pretty sure that it's you that's not supposed to see me," she said smiling.

"Either way you should hide."

"You wouldn't want to give me a kiss?" she teased.

"Yes; in about half an hour," he replied and shut the window.

A quarter hour later, Charles was standing on the steps of the church with Tommy and the vicar, waiting for his bride to arrive. He had turned to speak to Tommy for a moment and when he turned back toward the road, he saw that the cart had pulled up. Davey helped Elsie down and his breath caught at the sight of her in a light blue blouse and darker blue skirt. She had a blue ribbon in her hair and he was sure his smile matched hers. David escorted her to his side and placed her hand on his arm. He smiled down at her for a long moment before turning to the vicar. Looking up at him she asked, "We're to be married on the steps?"

"It seemed appropriate."

Taking her hand in his, he savored the words as he spoke them imbuing each with a depth of meaning, "In the name of God, I, Charles Edward Carson, take you, Elizabeth Mary Hughes, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, honor and cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow," and he slipped the ring on her finger, entranced by seeing it there.

Watching her eyes carefully, he listened closely to the earnestness with which she spoke each word, "In the name of God, I, Elizabeth Mary Hughes, take you, Charles Edward Carson, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, honor, and cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow," and he felt the weight of the ring that she placed on his left hand as well as the weight of her vow.

He turned to look at the vicar waiting as patiently as he could force himself to for the next words, "I pronounce you husband and wife."

He turned back to smile down at Elsie who was watching his eyes with her own smile. After a moment, Tom nudged his arm, "That means you can kiss her now."

Bending he kissed Elizabeth Mary Carson softly for the first time.

A bare five minutes later he was sitting in the cart with a piece of paper holding several signatures resting snugly in his inner jacket pocket and Elsie's arm tucked in his elbow. Urging the horse forward, they started back to Tom's cottage for the wedding breakfast. He smiled sideways at her, "Hello, Mrs. Carson, are you ready for a bit of breakfast?"

"Sarah made much more than just a bit," Elsie smiled over at him, squeezing his elbow gently, "but yes, I only nibbled on a piece of toast this morning," she confessed.

He laughed, "I had three cups of tea."

"Then, Sarah will have made you very happy," she said then smiled at him slyly, "We threw quite a wrench in the traditional cake, however."

He lifted his eyebrows to encourage her to continue.

"We were supposed to have made a fruitcake on our engagement and soaked it in brandy until our wedding."

"Seems like a waste of perfectly good brandy to me," he quipped, "Although, I suppose if you had a long engagement you wouldn't have to bother with wine."

She laughed, "Less than two days is not quite sufficient time. Sarah made a spice cake instead."

"I'm sure it will be delicious," he said as they pulled up to Tom's cottage, glancing behind he saw the others in the wagon, "but I must tell you that I am very ready to be alone on the train."

She smiled as he helped her down, "Two hours alone together will be nice."

His shoulders shifted slightly and his smile deepened, "Yes; it will," and they stood with arms around each other waiting for their family to arrive.

Breakfast was indeed hearty and perhaps over too quickly since they needed to get to the station for their noon train. They said their goodbyes to Tom, Sarah and Davey at the cottage with promises to write and visit again. David drove them to the station for their train, and Charles shook his hand one last time.

"I hope to never _have_ to visit you, Charles," David said with a significant glance, "Just keep making her happy."

"I will. I promise you'll never be forced to visit," Charles said, "Although I hope to see you again sometime soon."

Once Charles had safely stowed their bags overhead and loomed in the door for a few minutes to ensure their privacy, they settled down with his arm around her shoulders and her hand on his knee. When the train lurched and started out of the station, Elsie turned to Charles, "Out with it."

"I beg your pardon. Out with what?" he said, eyes not quite meeting hers.

"Charles," she said patiently, "you're a horrible liar, thank goodness. When you're trying to hide something you hitch your shoulders and look at my eyebrows and not my eyes. Every time I've said something about going back to Downton today, you've done that. So, explain yourself, husband," she said patting him firmly on the chest.

He smiled, "Say that again."

"All of it?" she asked exasperated.

"No; just the last bit."

Understanding dawned and she smiled, "Husband," and she raised her eyebrows at him indicating that she still expected an explanation.

"Elsie, please don't be angry," he began, "but I do not want to spend my wedding night in a single bed in a place where I have to be quiet. I would like to have some room to maneuver and the freedom to be exuberant," he smiled at her agreeing nod, "So, I sent a telegram yesterday indicating that you had a family crisis and were needed for one more day. I think they can manage without us for one more day; the family won't be back for nearly a week."

"Family crisis?" she asked smiling wryly.

"Well, I believe that you have a family member who is bedridden and needs some tending," he said grinning.

Biting the inside of her jaw to hold back her own grin, she asked, "And no one else could tend this family member?"

"Definitely not," he grinned pulling her tighter, "You are the only one who could possibly take care of him."

"Good. It had better stay that way."

He just smiled and bent to kiss her.

Pulling back, she asked, "And where are you going to find this room to maneuver and be 'exuberant'?"

"The same inn where we planned to spend last night. When I sent the telegram to them, I just indicated that we needed the room for tonight instead of last night. We'll need to disembark at the next town," he explained.

"And you called David devious," she said with appreciation.

"Perhaps I should have told you," he said, "but I thought you'd appreciate the surprise."

"I think I'll appreciate the room, and the _bed_, more," she said kissing him on the jaw.

"Good. It had better stay that way," he said kissing her again.

_**The next chapter of this story will begin when they return to Downton because I want the rating to stay the same. However, I will post a supplemental chapter for those of you who are interested that will have some M-ness, and the apropriate rating. Actually, it will probably be quite a bit of M-ness, just because they've been so frustrated for the past few days.**_


	20. Chapter 20

_**Sorry for the delay. Real life does get in the way sometimes. This is about as AU as one can get now. Many thanks to Batwings79 for taking a first peek and giving suggestions, but all errors are mine. Unfortunately the characters are not.**_

No outside observer would have known, but Charles was having a powerful internal struggle. Elsie and he had been back at Downton for five days now, and although they had been able to spend significant portions of each of those days together, they had only had time for more exuberant activities twice. Unfortunately, when the family was away the rest of the staff stayed up abominably late making it extremely difficult to find their way to each other's rooms. Last night Charles had stepped out into the hall and started toward the stairs only to meet Joseph coming up the steps. He'd had to pretend that he was going down to get something from his office. Bloody, meddling footman. Today, however, he had informed everyone that they would need to retire early to be rested for a busy day of preparing for the family to return in just two days time. That this would give Elsie and he some much needed time alone had not played into his announcement one bit. Elsie was waiting in her parlor for him to finish his nightly rounds, and in anticipation, she had been telling him all day in snatches of conversation some of the exuberant things that she had planned for him. She was in the mood to be in control tonight, and he was in the mood to sit back and enjoy himself.

The problem he was having at the moment was that one little member of the family had returned a couple of days early, and if he was not mistaken was now crying on the other side of this door. Miss Sybil had a sore throat and had been sent home early with Nanny. It was a very minor illness, or he was sure the entire family would have returned. Which was why he was puzzled about the unmistakable sounds of soft sniveling on the other side of the door. He had three choices; he could ignore the cries, which was not in his nature; he could wake Nanny who would be annoyed with him and Miss Sybil and likely take it out on Miss Sybil which would only make the cries worse; or, and here his struggle began, he could enter the room and try to calm her. Unfortunately, this seemed to be his only option and it put his entire evening in the delightful clutches of Elsie Carson at risk. Sighing, he knocked on the door and heard the sniffles pause, and then a frightened, quavering voice, "Who is it?"

"Mr. Carson, milady," he said softly to try to allay any fears, "I heard you as I was passing and wondered if you were quite alright."

As soon as he said his name, he heard little feet running across the floor and by the time he was finished the door had been flung open, and he had a little girl firmly attached to his side crying into his jacket. Kneeling, he held the hand lamp out from him so as not to burn her and patted her on the back soothingly, "There, there, Miss Sybil, should I wake Nanny? Are you feeling worse?"

"No!" she said, alarmed, "I feel fine. Please don't wake Nanny," she buried her head against his jacket, "I just thought you were the ghost, but I know that's silly."

"The ghost?"

She nodded, "The ghost who comes and gets little girls when they're out of their beds. But that's silly, isn't it Mr. Carson?" She looked at him hopefully.

"Well, there's no such thing as ghosts, milady, but I don't think it's silly that you're so frightened."

"It's just so quiet, with no one here. I can hear lots of things, and I can't help thinking they're all ghosts. I'm afraid to be alone."

And there went his evening with Elsie, he sighed, "Mrs. Hughes and I were going to have a bit of tea after I finished. You can finish my rounds with me, and we'll go down. Put on your robe and slippers, though. I wouldn't want you to take a turn for the worse."

She did as he asked, and he handed her the lamp so that there would be more light at her level. They moved down to the ground floor to check that the doors were locked. "Who told you about this ghost, Miss Sybil?"

"Nanny. She said the only way to be sure to be safe was to stay in bed and not get up until it was light outside."

Looking down at Miss Sybil grimly, he thought Nanny should be beaten with a switch. Maybe he would find one and let Elsie do the switching. If she was as frustrated as he was, he would probably have to intervene so that things didn't become too violent.

Walking down the steps toward Elsie's parlor, he made sure to speak to Miss Sybil so that hopefully, Elsie would be forewarned. Then from the third step, he called out, "Mrs. Hughes, we're to have a guest for tea tonight."

Stepping into the parlor behind Miss Sybil, he saw that Elsie was just turning up the gas light and that there were two candles lit on the mantle. There was also a decanter of wine and two glasses on the table beside the door. Looking at Elsie, he took in her loosened hair and the open neck of her blouse; she must have been ready for him to remove the last few hairpins. As his eyes returned to her face, he saw her raised eyebrows and annoyed expression, and he shrugged in response.

"Miss Sybil thought I was a ghost," he said to begin the explanation, "and was very frightened."

Her expression went from one of annoyance to concern as she looked down at Miss Sybil, "What did Mr. Carson do to make you think that?"

He opened his mouth to protest, but Miss Sybil beat him to it, "He didn't do anything. It's just so quiet with no one around that everything sounds like ghosts."

"Especially to a young lady who has heard a frightening story," he added with a significant look at Elsie.

Watching both of them carefully, Elsie asked, "Frightening story?"

Miss Sybil told the full story of how Nanny had told her all about a lady who had died tragically in the house. Apparently, she wanted a little girl of her own and so watched them as they slept. As long as they stayed in their beds they were safe. If they ever got out the ghost would take them away.

Charles could see that Elsie was growing angrier with every word. "Perhaps I should go see about some hot water for tea," he suggested.

Elsie nodded, "And maybe a little warm milk as well."

Answering his questioning look, she said, "For our guest."

_Smart woman_, he thought. It would probably make her sleepy. He walked into the kitchen to heat the water and the milk. Returning about five minutes later, he saw that Miss Sybil was curled on Elsie's settee under the rug. Elsie met him at the door to help him prepare the tea.

"She's almost back to sleep," she said then looked at him grimly, "Why did you bring her down here instead of just waking Nanny?"

"Elsie, she was crying," he said, "What else was I supposed to do? Nanny told her that if she got out of bed the ghost would be sure to get her."

"Dear, sweet man," she said hugging his arm. Then her face darkened, "Nanny should be switched."

He snorted softly, "Agreed. If I find a switch, will you do the honors?"

"Yes; but you might have to step in to protect her. You brought biscuits?"

He smiled ruefully, "Well, I thought if I wasn't going to have one sweet, I might as well have another."

Smiling back, she said, "It's early yet. If she goes to sleep…"

Turning to smile at her, he noticed that Miss Sybil had sat up a little straighter on the settee, "May I bring you a little milk and a biscuit, Miss Sybil?"

At her nod, he brought both to her before coming back to the table to retrieve his own tea and biscuits. Waiting until Elsie sat down on the settee beside Miss Sybil, he settled himself in his armchair. Elsie looked carefully at Miss Sybil, "You know that there are no ghosts at Downton, don't you?"

Miss Sybil said hesitantly, "Well, Mr. Carson said there's no such thing as ghosts." She didn't sound completely convinced.

Elsie arched her eyebrow at him, "Well, what Mr. Carson meant was there's no ghosts at Downton. He won't allow them."

"He won't?" Miss Sybil looked over at him impressed, and he kept his face impassive while he sipped his tea. When she turned back to look at Elsie, he shot an angry glare at his housekeeper.

"That's part of what he does on his nightly rounds. Gets rid of all the ghosts," Elsie nodded. When Miss Sybil turned back to look at him, Elsie returned his look with one of obvious mirth.

"Is that true, Mr. Carson?"

"Well, milady, I've been here so long now, there really isn't any bother. They know to stay away."

"What if you're not here?"

"Well, then I delegate responsibility to Mrs. Hughes or Joseph, and they take care of it," he answered carefully.

Miss Sybil looked at both he and Elsie suspiciously and then nodded, obviously accepting their explanation, "That's good, then."

They all sat quietly for a few more moments while Miss Sybil finished her warm milk and biscuit. Charles glanced at her and saw that her eyes were getting heavy and her head was drooping. He cleared his throat softly, and Elsie covered her again with the rug. She walked over to the door and motioned for him to join her.

"Ought I carry her back to her room?"

She sighed, "As much as I hate to say it, we should probably just let her sleep here tonight. I'd hate for her to wake up again and be scared, and she looks comfortable enough. I'll stay here with her."

He grunted, "I don't like that. You won't rest well in that chair. Let me stay down here."

Elsie started to speak but Miss Sybil stirred in her sleep, "Let's go to your pantry to talk about this. We'll be able to hear her from there."

He followed her down the hall and caught her hand once they were through the door, pulling her back against him. Bending to kiss her, he wrapped both arms around her waist. She responded to his kiss for a few minutes, her hands sneaking up under his jacket to caress his back. Pulling back, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead and said, "We really shouldn't be doing this with Miss Sybil just down the hall."

She sighed, "I know. I had such good plans for tonight."

"Maybe next time you shouldn't tell me about those plans all day," he suggested with uplifted eyebrows, "At least then I could avoid the frustration."

"If I'm frustrated, you should be too," she smiled patting him gently on the chest, "What's good for the goose is good for the gander."

He grinned, "I certainly hope that the goose enjoys what's good for the gander."

"She does. Hence, the frustration."

They moved to his settee and sat down with his arm draped around her shoulder. She caught the hand that was resting on her arm and played with the curly hairs on the back of his wrist.

"What are we going to do about Nanny?"

"I thought that was settled. I'm going to beat her, and you're going to keep me from killing her."

"Elsie!" he admonished, "In all seriousness, I think that's a bit excessive. Firing her should be sufficient. After all, I suppose Sybil's old enough not to have a nanny anymore, anyway."

She sighed, "I suppose so, but I would certainly like to see her suffer a little bit. Telling her not to get out of bed," she scoffed, "She obviously just didn't want to be bothered. And she has no idea how to deal with Miss Sybil. That girl takes everything to heart. She'll probably never forget that, and she never would have really believed there was no such thing as ghosts."

"Is that why you told her one of my jobs was ghost-chaser?"

"Of course," she smiled, "All those girls think it would be impossible for anyone, even a ghost, to disobey you."

He laughed and shook his head, "I'm not invincible."

"I know that," she said with a snort, "but they don't yet. By the time she figures out that you're not, she'll be too old to believe in ghosts."

"Nice to know that you have such a high opinion of me. That tickles, by the way."

"What tickles?"

"That," he said wriggling his hand.

"Sorry," she dropped her hand to her lap, "I have an idea for revenge against Nanny."

"I didn't say stop," he said taking her hand and placing it back on his, "What's your idea?"

Listening carefully, he started first to smile and then chuckle as he listened to her plan.

"You, my dearly beloved wife, are devious."

"Just one of my many qualities that you find attractive," she said kissing his hand lightly.

"Mmmmm. Just one," he said, pulling her head down to his shoulder.

Waking a few hours later to complete darkness, he listened carefully for sounds from Elsie's parlor. Hearing none, he extracted himself from Elsie gently and laid her down on the settee. Using a match to light his way back to Elsie's parlor, his heart skipped a beat when he saw that the settee was empty. Then, he glanced toward the armchair and saw that she was curled there. Pausing, he wondered for a moment what to do. It didn't seem proper for him to stretch out on the settee while Miss Sybil slept in the armchair. He scooped her up gently to move her to the settee, but her eyes fluttered open. Pulling her head against his shoulder, he soothed her back to sleep, and her arm tightened around his neck. Sighing, he lay down on the settee with her in his arms deciding that he would extricate himself when she was in a deeper sleep.

He woke a couple of hours later to a light kiss on his forehead and a finger over his lips. Blinking his eyes, he saw Elsie smiling down at him. "Charles, you should go up and change. It's just after 5 o'clock."

He looked down to see Miss Sybil in a deep sleep on his chest along with a sizeable amount of drool, he noted in disgust. He carefully drew his arm and side away and settled her against the back of the settee.

Elsie drew him over to the door, clearly amused, "Sleeping in the arms of another woman?"

"Elsie, she's seven, and she drools," he said, pulling his handkerchief from his pocket to dab at his waistcoat.

"Well, I'm safe, then," Elsie said with a smile in her voice.

"Do you want me to carry the imp up?"

"No; leave her here. We'll take her back to her room after we've had our breakfast. Besides it wouldn't hurt if Nanny found her missing and took a little fright."

Two hours later found a contrite Nanny standing in front of Elsie's desk receiving a fierce tongue lashing from the housekeeper. On the whole, Charles thought if it were him, he might have preferred being beaten with a switch. Elsie could almost draw blood when her temper was at full sail, and it most assuredly was now. _Probably had nothing at all to do with missing out on an evening alone_, he thought dryly while he focused on the last bit of her scolding, "…the part that I can absolutely not countenance is your telling Miss Sybil not to get out of bed or the ghost would get her. You are here solely for the purpose of caring for the girls. What if she'd taken ill? The final decision will be up to her Ladyship, of course, but both Mr. Carson and myself will be recommending your immediate dismissal. You've done considerable damage by frightening Miss Sybil with imaginary ghosts. How silly!"

He came to himself enough to come in with his line at this point, "Now Mrs. Hughes there are…"

She interrupted him briskly, "Mr. Carson, there's no need to tell her about that."

"Tell me about what?" Nanny asked.

Charles looked at Elsie as though for permission and she shrugged reluctantly, "Well, of course, in a place as old as Downton there have been a few tragedies, but any ghosts that are present in a home this stately are completely devoted to the family and their protection. I would certainly not want to spend a night here if I thought I might have put any member of the family in harm's way."

Elsie added, looking at Nanny in disgust, "As you most certainly did Miss Sybil!" Then she added after another glare, "You may go to your room now. Once Rose has changed Miss Sybil, she will be spending the day with me. I suggest you take this time to pack your bags."

Stepping over to the door to make sure that she'd gone, he turned back to Elsie, "Well?"

"Oh, she's frightened alright. Her eyes went wide as saucers when you said you would be afraid to spend a night here."

He grinned, "I thought you might like that bit of improvisation. I'll see you tonight?"

"Quarter to midnight should just about do," she agreed.

* * *

><p>As he approached the attic stairs over the girls', and more importantly Nanny's, rooms, he looked down at his watch to see that it was twenty minutes to midnight. Hearing soft footfalls from the other corridor, he lifted his hand lamp to illumine Elsie wearing a ragged dressing gown and night dress.<p>

"You didn't dress up for me?" he whispered smiling.

"Well, with Miss Sybil in my room tonight, I had to at least pretend to go to sleep, and I didn't want to get my best dressing gown dusty."

"That was wise having her sleep in your room. We wouldn't want her to hear any of this, would we?" he grinned wickedly, "Will the cot be comfortable enough for you?"

"I've slept in worse conditions. Shall we go up?" she drew a key from the ring at her waist and unlocked the attic door.

"After you, dear wife," he said, and then grinned, "You know that great lot of keys could sound like chains rattling."

"I had thought of that," she said wryly, "Now remember, we mustn't say anything, just some loud clumps and maybe a few mournful moans. And nothing else, mind," she finished with a finger poked in his chest.

"Elsie," he scoffed, "Give me some credit. A dusty attic? I do have some control. Do you think she'll really believe we're ghosts?"

Smiling wickedly, "I think she half believes already. I let Mrs. Patmore know our little plan, and when Nanny asked her, she embellished our story a little. She said Nanny looked half scared out of her wits."

With that comment, she started up the attic stairs, and he closed and locked the door behind them. When they reached the top, he motioned to the far side of the attic and whispered, "Over there should be right above her room."

Elsie walked over to the place he indicated and began shaking her keys and moaning piteously. He had to bite his cheek to avoid outright laughter at the site. Looking back she whispered fiercely, "Well, come on, help."

Going to join her, he dragged one foot along the floor behind him to make a scraping sound letting out a low moan on his way. Elsie continued to rattle her keys and moan pitifully.

He bent down to whisper teasingly in her ear, "I've heard you moan better than that."

After she challenged him with an uplifted eyebrow, he grabbed her waist causing her to shriek in surprise. Bending to catch her ear between his lips, he let his tongue dart out to trace the edge and was rewarded with a low moan. Apparently, she didn't want to be outdone, as he quickly felt her hand on his groin. He groaned in surprised arousal and pulled her tight against him to kiss her hungrily. She pulled back to whisper in his ear, "Charles, this is a bad idea."

He agreed. "A very bad idea," he whispered in her ear before attacking the distracting spot behind her left ear with his lips. She moaned again, louder this time.

Almost panting now, she whispered again, "We have to stop," sounding unconvinced herself.

"We really should," he agreed again as he pushed her against the wall, causing the keys at her waist to rattle loudly. Once he had enough buttons of her nightdress loose for his hand to fit inside, he was rewarded again with a low drawn out moan.

He bent to mouth her breast through her nightdress, and she whispered in his ear one last time, "Charles, this is a very, very bad idea. We must stop."

He lifted his head and nodded, backing away slightly. She grabbed the back of his neck before he could back away too much and pulled him to her for a hungry kiss before whispering in his ear again, "Why don't you sit in that chair over there? We can get rid of a little of the gander's frustration."

He complied eagerly, drawing her with him.

Nanny was gone before breakfast, and a broken chair was removed from the attic above the children's wing a few days later.

_**Reviews are always welcome. I promise this fic won't go on forever. I have two more chapters and an epilogue in mind. **_


	21. Chapter 21

_**Sorry for the delay in updating. This chapter was a little hard to write. I just don't feel that I have a good handle on Edith. The improbability continues.**_

Edith was just a little frightened. If asked she couldn't have said if she was more afraid of the dark or of being caught. Although that was silly, this was her house too, after all. She had every right to go down to the library if she wished. The fact that it was very late at night and anyone or anything could be hiding in the shadows around her meant nothing. She would just pick out a book quickly and hurry back upstairs. She knew just where to find what she wanted, and surely it would be forgivable to wait until tomorrow to write it in the ledger. Pulling her robe tighter around her shoulders, she nudged the door open carefully and walked to the bookshelves.

The book that she wanted was missing so she looked in the ledger to see that Mrs. Hughes had it signed out. Just as she had her hand on another book, she heard a creaking noise behind her. She started enough that a little wax dripped on her hand causing her to cry out. Thankfully, Mrs. Hughes came to her side quickly, "Milady, whatever are you doing up at this hour?"

"I was just picking out a book," she said as she sat the candle down so that she could raise her hand to her mouth.

"Oh, dear, did I cause you to burn yourself? I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. I was just taking a final turn through the house to make sure everything was secure. Come down with me, and I'll tend to that."

Edith followed Mrs. Hughes down with some relief. It would be nice to have a little company for awhile. She had been getting lonely these last several days. Mrs. Hughes led her into the kitchen and drew her over to the sink so that she could clean her hand. "Oh, it's only a very minor burn milady, but I'll put a bit of ointment on it to be sure."

It seemed like it was just a moment before Edith was sitting in Mrs. Hughes' armchair with a bandage on her hand waiting for a cup of warm milk. She noticed that the ottoman seemed to be a long way away from the chair. That was odd. It surely wouldn't be comfortable for Mrs. Hughes, would it? Looking around she noticed a book on the table beside the chair, _**The Pickwick Papers**_. That was odd too. She was sure that Mrs. Hughes had the book she wanted signed out. Mrs. Hughes came in at that moment with warm milk and biscuits.

"I remembered that cocoa makes you sneeze."

She smiled, it was nice to have someone remember things about her for a change, "Thank you, Mrs. Hughes," and she took her cup and biscuit, nibbling on the biscuit. She grimaced as she remembered that she had not accomplished her errand.

"Is something wrong milady? Does your hand hurt?"

"No, I just forgot to get a book, and now I'll never get to sleep."

"And why would that be? Do you miss your parents and sister that much?"

"No!" she said quickly, "Well, not Mary anyway."

She noticed Mrs. Hughes quick downward glance and hidden smile which made her bold enough to continue, "It's just that I don't understand why Mary gets to go to London while I'm stuck here with Sybil, and then they were only supposed to be gone for a week and now it's been so long."

Mrs. Hughes smile faded just a little, "They've only been gone for two and a half weeks, milady. And I suppose that Miss Mary went with them so that she could get better acquainted with London since she'll be coming out soon."

"I don't see what difference that should make," she huffed, "It's just not fair . Everyone is so worried about Mary doing well, and Sybil is so cute. Where do I fit in?"

Mrs. Hughes smile widened just a little, "I think all younger sisters feel that way at times. I know I did."

"Are you a younger sister too?"

"Yes; I can empathize with you. My sister can be a little overbearing at times as well."

"Do you have a little sister too?"

"No," she said quietly, "I had a little brother, but he died when he was very young," then after a short pause, "Would you like to see a photograph?"

She nodded and Mrs. Hughes went to her desk and unlocked one of the top drawers. She pulled out a photograph of two girls and a little boy who were looking very seriously at the camera.

"Your sister looks very stern."

"She can be, but we love each other very much. I learned to get out of her shadow and find my own way. You'll need to do the same thing. Miss Edith, you mustn't let yourself be overshadowed by either of your sisters. You have your own talents, and given time, I'm sure you'll learn to nurture them."

She rolled her eyes, "What can I do that's special?"

"Well, for one thing it seems to me you pay closer attention to people than either of your sisters. If you practice discretion, I think that you could be quite a good confidant, and a very special friend."

Nodding thoughtfully, she finished her biscuits before her milk, and again Mrs. Hughes noticed, "Goodness, you must have been hungry. I'll fetch you another, but then I must take you off to bed."

Edith walked over to the desk to return the photograph to the drawer. As she placed it inside, her hand brushed a stiff, brown folder. Curiosity getting the better of her, she pulled it out and opened it to look at the photographs inside. On one side there was a tall man with a serious demeanor but with a warm look in his eyes. Studying it closely, she realized it was Mr. Carson! On the other side, there was a couple with the man sitting and woman standing with her hand on his shoulder. Turning the photograph to see it better in the light, she could see that there was a ring on the woman's hand and a brooch on the left side of her blouse. Startled again she realized that this was the closest to smiling she'd ever seen Mr. Carson, and he was with Mrs. Hughes of all people and there was a _ring_ on her left hand! She shouldn't have seen this. She quickly stuffed the folder back in the drawer and laid the other on top of the desk. Just in time, too, because Mrs. Hughes (or Mrs. Carson, she thought) came through the door at just that moment saying, "I'm sorry it took me a little longer, milady. I thought a hand lamp might be a little safer for you than a candle." She had two hand lamps in one hand and a plate with a biscuit on it in the other.

Mrs. Hughes looked at her curiously so she said in her calmest voice, "I was just putting your photograph on your desk. Could we stop by the library so that I can fetch my book?" And she took the biscuit from Mrs. Hughes to take a generous bite, thinking that it now made sense that the ottoman was so far away from the chair and that that book was on the table. She realized that that must be where Mr. Carson sat, and she must have kept his book for when he returned from London.

Mrs. Hughes raised her eyebrows but merely agreed that they could indeed stop by the library. They started up the stairs and were on the second step when they heard a noise at the back door. She almost jumped out of her skin, and Mrs. Hughes turned completely white and pushed her up the stairs quickly. Her heart raced as she hurried up to the next landing and saw that Mrs. Hughes had turned to go back down the stairs. She calmed when she heard Mrs. Hughes' exclamation, "Mr. Carson! You gave us quite a fright. Whatever are you doing sneaking into the house in the middle of the night?"

Curious to see them together, she started down the stairs when she heard his stern answer, "I certainly had no intention of that, although, perhaps it's good that I did. Why is this door not locked? Do you give no thought to safety when I'm not here, woman? It could have been anyone coming through that door," he paused in his scolding and straightened when he saw her, "Good evening Miss Edith. May we help you?"

She noticed that Mrs. Hughes voice had become very quiet, and she had folded her arms across her chest, "I _was_ helping her. She was in the library when I was locking up and burned her hand on some candle wax. You still haven't told me why you're coming home in the middle of the night."

With a weary sigh, he addressed her initially with hands behind his back, "You'll be pleased to know, Miss Edith, that your family will be returning day after tomorrow," and then he looked back at Mrs. Hughes, "I wanted to come back early to see that all was in order. It was either take a very early train tomorrow or a late one tonight. I was supposed to arrive earlier, but the train was delayed. It also took quite some time to secure the trunks until I can send someone to fetch them tomorrow, or rather later today. I suppose I could have stayed at the station with the trunks, but I was anxious to be home."

Mrs. Hughes' arms had relaxed, and they had stepped closer to each other during his explanation. "You walked here from the station in the middle of the night? And you're questioning my attention to safety? Goodness, you're nearly frozen. Go into my parlor. There's some hot water there for tea. I'll walk Miss Edith back to her room and be back in a moment. I suppose you've not eaten anything either?"

At the shake of his head, she clicked her tongue and Edith began to feel like she was intruding on something private, especially after she'd seen that photograph. "I can find my own way, Mrs. Hughes. I'll just go straight to my room. I'm sure I can probably sleep now."

She started up the stairs but paused on the first landing and strained her ears to hear Mrs. Hughes, "Why didn't you send a telegram?"

Then she heard Mr. Carson's deeper voice lowered, "Can't a man try to surprise his wife? You act like you've not missed me at all, except for lack of someone to scold."

"You know better than that!"

Then there was silence for a few moments before Mrs. Hughes spoke again softer, "Go on now and have some tea to warm you. I'll make you a sandwich."

"I'd rather you come to warm me, and I'll have the tea and sandwich later."

She hurried up the rest of the stairs after that deciding that she really shouldn't hear anything else. She thought this might be the perfect time to start practicing discretion. No one else, especially her sisters, would ever find out about this from her. Maybe someday, if she was lucky, someone would look at her like Mr. Carson looked at Mrs. Hughes and be willing to walk a quarter mile in the cold and dark just to be home a few hours earlier.

_**Just a quick word on dates. I have arbitrarily set Mary's age in 1912 as 20, Edith as 18, and Sybil as 16. This is based on the fact that Sybil 'comes out' in 1914 which would happen when a girl is 17 or 18. I also thinks it makes it a little sadder that Edith's coming out is the season after the Titanic sinking which would have to be more subdued because they were in mourning, and I'm sure others were as well. She always seems to get the short end of the stick. Therefore, in my AU, Charles and Elsie become romantically involved in 1901, married in 1903, and this chapter is set in 1908. I suppose I'm no better with time jumps than Fellowes. Really, I'm thinking about these things entirely too much.**_

**_Reviews are always welcome._**


	22. Chapter 22

_**Sorry for the long delay. Obviously this is about as AU as possible now. But at least it's mostly a happy AU.**_

Charles made his way quickly to Elsie's parlor. He needed to enlist her in his plan. Finding the door cracked, he simply pushed it open before entering quietly to see her bent over her accounts. He stood still for a moment and watched her. After fifteen years of knowing her and six years of having the privilege of calling her his wife, a glimpse of her could still take his breath away. Silly man, he thought he'd loved her before. That was nothing to how he felt about her now. She had her head turned slightly to the left giving him a tantalizing peek at her neck, and he knew that if he could see her face she would have the end of her pencil between her teeth as she added the columns and a small furrow between her brows. Seeing her shift her left shoulder uncomfortably, he made a mental note that he would likely need to rub it tonight. Closing the door behind him quietly, he walked to her desk and bent to place a light kiss on the back of her neck. She sighed and said, "I hope that's Charles or else one of the footmen is in a lot of trouble."

"A lot," he agreed in a rumbling whisper, "Although I wouldn't put anything past Mr. Watson."

"What are you going to do about him?"

"That's up to Lord Grantham. We're going to have a talk with him tomorrow. But I didn't come here to discuss him."

"Did you come here to distract me from my work? Because you're doing an excellent job of it."

"As a matter of fact, I did," he said pleased to see her turn to him with a smile, "Not in the way I wish, however. I wonder if you would be willing to go for a walk with me."

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Sometimes work mixes a little with pleasure. Master Patrick and Lady Mary are going for a walk through the grounds. I think they may even be going to our church."

"And you would like to prevent any canoodling," she smiled as realization dawned.

"I would," he agreed, "It's still a full year until Lady Mary comes out, and that boy is far too friendly in my opinion."

"Oh, I think he wants to be a little more than friendly, and I haven't exactly seen Lady Mary discouraging him."

"Which is exactly why we will take a walk out to the ruins ourselves," he said tapping her shoulder lightly, "I doubt he'd try anything with us around. Surely he has some scruples."

"He likely does, but I'm not so sure about Lady Mary."

"Elsie!" he admonished.

"Charles!"

"You are much too harsh on her," he said.

"And you are much too forgiving."

"Let's not argue about this yet again," he said, "Will you go with me or not?"

"Hmm. A nice walk with my husband on a beautiful spring day combined with the chance to ruin Lady Mary's fun. Of course I'll go with you."

He leaned forward to kiss her forehead, "Meet me at the start of the path in a quarter hour."

* * *

><p>Waiting for her butler at the path to the church ruins, Elsie reflected on the day almost eight years before when she'd begun to understand exactly how Charles felt about her. She was still thankful for the notes those girls had sent and would serve the family faithfully for that reason if no other. Smiling to herself she remembered the note she'd written Charles to get him out here for that walk. Looking up, she saw him striding across the yard toward her, and her breath caught. Silly woman, she thought she'd loved him then. That was nothing to how she felt about him now. It amazed her that her love for him could have grown so much.<p>

He greeted her with a nod and a smile in his eyes, and they started down the path silently. He didn't hold his arm out to her, but they walked closely enough that her hand occasionally brushed his overcoat and his fingers occasionally caught on her sleeve. Their conversation was minimal. He would indicate a flower on the edge of the path, and she would occasionally point out a rabbit or squirrel. When they reached the first stream crossing, he stepped across quickly and turned to lift her across. She leaned against him when he put her down, and he bent to kiss her lightly. Taking his hand now, she felt she had to mention the subject that had been on her mind all day, "Do you remember what happened a year ago today?"

Drawing her arm through his and holding it tight against his side, he said gruffly, "I'm surprised you think that I could forget."

Watching the path before them carefully, she said, "She would have been just about five months old now."

Covering her hand on his arm with his own, he said in a voice so hoarse it chipped at her heart, "I should have been with you, not off in York."

She leaned against him in reassurance, "Charles, don't be silly. You'd gone there to find a place for us. You had no way of knowing we'd not need it. And you were with me after."

"It still bothers me that you had to face that alone," he squeezed her hand.

She took a deep breath, "I don't think we'll have that chance again."

"I know."

"You do?"

"It's been almost four months," he said with a rueful smile, "And none of the other changes you had before."

"Sometimes I think you keep closer track than I do," she said leaning her head on his upper arm, "Dear, sweet man."

After a long pause in conversation and when they'd reached the footbridge, Charles turned Elsie to face him directly, "Elsie, I'm-I'm- That is I just wanted to say that I'm very sorry that we won't have that."

She placed her hand on his cheek, "I know. I'm sorry too, but I'm also very happy with what we do have," she stretched up and he leaned forward for a kiss of mutual regret and love.

When they broke the kiss, she leaned against his chest for another brief moment before she pushed herself upright, "Now, are you going to help me across this bridge or should I just fall in the stream?"

He paused long enough that she raised her eyebrows at him in question.

"If you fall in the stream, I'd have to carry you back to your parlor to warm you in front of the fire. There's enough of a chill in the air that I'd not want you to catch cold, and I'd certainly have to get you out of any wet clothes immediately."

"Charles Carson," she laughed swatting at his arm, "You're a leech."

"I am," he agreed seriously, "but I am your leech." And he stepped across the footbridge before turning to help her cross.

They walked arm in arm until the path opened to the field that contained the church ruins. Releasing her arm, he turned to her, "Now, dear wife, let's see if we can spoil a young man's fun."

"I don't see anyone up there," she said skeptically.

"I believe that we have demonstrated on more than one occasion that there are a few private places in those ruins."

Her cheeks tinted faintly, "Yes; I suppose no one could boast to knowing these ruins better than we do."

"Then come along, and we'll root them out," he said with a grim smile.

She spoke loudly as they approached the ruins, "Mr. Carson, this has been a lovely day for a walk. I'm glad we found the time for a short stroll this afternoon."

He grinned at her in understanding, "Thank you for accompanying me, Mrs. Hughes. You know, I don't believe I've examined these ruins closely in quite a while. Why don't we have a look around before we return?"

They approached the church deciding to enter through the front doorway, the door long since rotted away. The roof was of course missing and there was grass growing up through the stone floor. Charles led the way watching the walls carefully for any loose stones and stepped first into the small side room near the entrance. Finding no one there, they moved forward to the area around the altar and still found themselves alone. Satisfying themselves that there was no one in the church, Charles drew Elsie to the altar and bent to whisper next to her ear, "I'm going to go over that wall to make sure there's no one lurking outside."

She whispered back fiercely, "Charles is that really such a good idea? The ground is pretty uneven, and you're not as young as you used to be."

Too late she realized that she'd said exactly the wrong thing. A grim look of determination and defiance came over his face, and he handed her his hat before walking toward the wall.

She rolled her eyes, men were so predictable, "Charles, let me remind you that it is a long walk back to the house, and I will certainly not be able to carry you."

He straightened to his full height, "Then I will have to be sure not to trouble you."

Grasping the top of the wall, he found a foothold and pulled himself to the top to have a look. Lifting himself up to sit on the top, he turned back to her with a smug look which quickly vanished as the top stone shifted slightly. He hopped down beside her again, and she realized he'd landed badly when he grunted and leaned heavily against the wall.

"Are you all right? You didn't break anything did you?"

"No, no," he grimaced, "I just twisted my ankle a little. It'll be fine if I walk it off."

Strongly resisting the urge to say that she told him so, she asked, "Did you see anyone out there?"

"No," he replied, "I did not. My information must have been flawed," taking her arm he started toward the doorway gingerly on his twisted ankle.

Once they were on the steps of the church she took pity on his bruised ego and ankle, "Could we sit on the steps for a few moments? I was remembering our picnic earlier."

"Certainly, dear, if that is what you wish."

He sat down with one leg straight before him and she settled herself on the step between his legs looking out over the field that stretched below them.

He placed his hand on her left shoulder and began to massage it gently, "You still blush occasionally."

She sighed at the relief from his touch, "I'm usually thinking about the after."

"After all the 'children' have gone to bed and we're alone?"

"Yes," she answered leaning back into his touch, "you're not nervous anymore though."

"I don't have to wonder whether you really love me."

"You don't?"

"No; it's in how you look at me, say my name, touch me, and laugh at my jokes when they're not particularly funny. And I'm thinking of the after as well, of course," he finished with a smile in his voice.

She placed her hand on his knee and said just one word, "Charles"

He turned her toward him and pulled her as close as he could to kiss her as he wished he could have on that autumn day eight years before. There was no interruption this time from a gaggle of giggling girls, and their kisses lasted until the steps became uncomfortable enough for him to be willing to attempt the walk back to the house.

* * *

><p>Mary was walking as fast as she could in skirts down the path toward the ruins. Patrick was being dreadfully persistent today, but she knew this path better than him. She was sure if she could just make it to the ruins that she could avoid him. It wasn't that she didn't like Patrick or even that she didn't want to kiss Patrick. It just made her mad that everyone, including Patrick, thought she was going to marry him. For heaven's sake, she hadn't even had a single season yet. She wanted to dance and flirt and have loads of men fall in love with her and beg her to marry them. That was what all girls wanted, wasn't it? Vaguely she wondered if maybe there shouldn't be something more, but only vaguely.<p>

She stopped short at the end of the path when she saw that someone was already sitting on the steps of the church. Actually, it was two someones. They were sitting so close that it was difficult at first to see that there were two people there. When they pulled away from each other slightly, she was able to see that it was Mr. Carson! If that was Mr. Carson then the woman he held so closely had to be Mrs. Hughes. So what she and her sisters had suspected all along was true. She stepped back toward the path a little not wanting to interrupt them and heard Patrick huffing his way along the path. If he saw them it would be a disaster. She was sure that Patrick would feel the need to inform her father. She walked quickly back toward the path and saw Patrick just as he was starting to cross the footbridge, "Patrick!"

Her cry surprised him enough that he fell in the stream. She walked toward him in consternation. She hadn't really intended that, but it certainly solved her problem. Waiting for him to extract himself from the stream, she gave him her full attention and sympathy on the walk back to the house.

Later that night, she lagged behind her mother and sisters because she had noticed that Mr. Carson seemed to put slightly more weight on his right foot and limped just a little when he thought no one was looking.

"Mr. Carson, are you injured?"

"No, milady," he answered quickly and then, "That is, I turned my ankle just a little on my walk this afternoon, but it's nothing serious."

"Where did you walk?"

"To the old church ruins, milady," he answered carefully.

"Really? I'm sorry that Patrick and I didn't make it quite that far. He fell in the stream."

"Did he indeed milady? That footbridge is certainly very slippery. One must be very careful not to make a misstep."

"Indeed," she said with raised eyebrows, "I seem to remember Mrs. Hughes almost falling there when you took us on our picnic when we were girls, but you were there to save her of course."

"I am always glad to be of service, milady," he replied with a very small bow.

And Mary was sure that that was probably true.

_**This chapter took an incredibly long time to write. I restarted multiple times. I have every intention of finishing this with the next chapter, but I've been wrong before. I hope that it is still enjoyable, although it is still improbably improbable. Thank you so much for your reviews to this point. It's nice to know that others are enjoying my ramblings at least a little.**_

_**As always, reviews are welcome.**_


	23. Chapter 23

_**I'm terribly sorry that it has taken me so long to update this fic. I claim all possible excuses. Busy at work, busy with family, sick, computer sick, etc. The truth, however, is simple: PROCRASTINATION. Thank all of you who have stuck with this story and sent so many encouraging reviews, fav. Stories, alerts, etc. There's quite a time jump here to just after Charles' collapse in S.2 ep. 2 so obviously some tiny spoilers. Sorry to skip all of series 1, but if I didn't this story would be 40 chapters long.**_

Walking past the library, Mary noticed that the door was ajar and there was a faint light spilling out. Curious, she decided to investigate, knowing that her parents had both retired much earlier. She walked into the room to find Edith staring thoughtfully into the fire. Since the opportunity presented itself, she thought she'd give her a piece of her mind, "How's your dress?"

Edith shook her head and looked toward her, "What? Oh, it's fine," she sighed wearily, "Mary, I really don't want…"

"Edith," she interrupted, "By now you should know that you don't always get what you want."

"Unlike you," she answered with narrowed eyes.

"Are you really such a selfish cow that you cared more about your dress than Mr. Carson?"

Her jaw clenched and she turned back toward the fire, "You're not exactly the most appropriate person to give lectures on selflessness. Besides, Dr. Clarkson said it was just stress."

"We didn't know that at the time," Mary said sternly, "and Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes have never been anything but kind to you. They deserve better than that from you."

Edith looked up sharply at that, "Why do you mention Mrs. Hughes?"

"Really, Edith," Mary rolled her eyes, "It's obvious they love each other. They have for years."

"How do you know that?" she asked curiously.

Mary blew a sharp breath from her nose, "I saw them, ages ago. At the old church ruins. They were _very close_ to each other," she finished with raised eyebrows.

"And you never told anyone?"

"Why would I?" Mary asked offended, "They deserve a little happiness, and it's not as if it has ever caused any problems. Although, I'm surprised they never married."

"They did," Edith stated flatly and then answered Mary's shocked look dismissively, "I saw a picture, years ago, in her parlor. It was of them together, and she was wearing a ring."

Sybil came in time to hear the last part of Edith's statement, "Who was wearing a ring?"

Mary said, "Mrs. Hughes!" while Edith said, "Mrs. Carson!" at the same time.

"What?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Sybil, do shut the door. If we're to talk of this, let's not let the whole house hear."

Sybil shut the door and said thoughtfully, "Well, that makes a lot of sense. It would explain a lot. Especially that night…"

"What night?"

"Oh, it was a long time ago. I had been sent home from a house party with Nanny. She told me a scary story."

"The nanny who ran away in the middle of the night?" Edith asked.

"Yes; it was the night before she left. Mr. Carson heard me crying and took me downstairs. I slept all night on Mrs. Hughes' settee," she smiled to herself, "I woke up in the middle of the night, and they were gone. I found them sleeping in his pantry with their arms around each other."

Edith rolled her eyes, "Is that all?"

"Well, Mrs. Hughes did wake him up by kissing him," Sybil said with a smile, "She also told me that one of Mr. Carson's jobs was to chase off all the ghosts. I was never scared of ghosts after that."

Mary gave a short laugh, "No; of course not, not even a ghost would dare to cross Mr. Carson."

The three sisters shared their first laugh together in years. After a few moments, Sybil looked seriously at Edith, "That was a dreadful thing that you said."

Edith's eyes shifted toward the floor and she took a deep breath. Mary looked at her pointedly, "Surely you're not going to claim that Sybil has no business scolding you."

Anger flashed in Edith's eyes for a moment, "Do you think that I don't know it was a dreadful thing to say? I regretted it as soon as I'd said it, but you can't take words back, can you?"

"No; you can't," Mary said thoughtfully, "But perhaps you can do something else."

"What do you have in mind?" Sybil asked.

_~ECH~_

"Elsie, calm down," Charles said for the third time, trying to convince his wife, "It bothers you far more than it does me."

"It should bother you," Else said stridently, "You've never been anything but kind to that girl, and she cares more about her blooming dress than she does you. You could have been dying for goodness sake."

"But I was not," he said patiently catching her hand to draw her back to the bed, "I was simply very foolishly working myself into a state unnecessarily, when I could have been relaxing in bed with my dear wife," he added with emphasis, tugging on her hand, "who could now be relaxing in bed with her dear husband, at least I hope I'm still dear."

She finally relented and moved back to the bed to lie beside him. He lifted the sheet and she slipped under letting her head rest on his chest.

She sighed and her breath hitched in her throat. Squeezing her shoulders tighter against his side, he whispered gruffly, "I'm sorry I frightened you."

"Charles, you've nothing to be sorry for," she reassured him, "unless it's acting like an idiot for the past few months, thinking that you have to do everything perfectly by yourself, and completely ignoring my sensible advice."

He chuckled against her hair, "I'm glad you have such a high opinion of me."

She sighed, "Sometimes I wish I knew what went on in that head of yours."

"Sometimes I wish I did too," he agreed, then continued, "Elsie, is it so wrong to want one thing at least to be under control? I suppose I thought that if I could keep everything the way that it was before the war it would be like everything was normal, with no war and no worries or at least no worries about our young men dying or coming back like Lang. Ten years ago I wouldn't have had any problem," he added defensively.

"That was ten years ago," she said smiling against his chest, "you've got to learn to slow down."

"So you've been telling me," he said grimly, "Perhaps I should avoid all strenuous activity."

"I don't know if I'd go quite that far," she said rising up on her elbow to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, you wouldn't would you?" he asked sliding down the bed to face her.

"Well, not tonight of course," she clarified, "But soon."

"Tomorrow night?"

"Perhaps you should check with Dr. Clarkson."

"I should ask Dr. Clarkson if I'm fit for making passionate love to my wife?" he asked with a smile.

"Perhaps you could be a little more cryptic than that," she suggested.

He chuckled and leaned forward to kiss her.

She pressed her forehead against his shoulder and sighed, "Charles, I wouldn't have been able to keep my promise."

"To be with me?"

"Yes," she said hesitating, "I was thinking more about keeping our secret than about you. What if…?"

"Elsie, dear," he quieted her, "Nothing happened," he tightened his arm around her shoulders.

She stroked his chest lightly obviously lost in her thoughts.

After a few moments, he said, "We'll tell his Lordship."

"Beg pardon?"

"When I'm up and about again, we'll tell his Lordship," he answered more confidently.

"And if he sacks us?"

"Who else could he get? All the footmen are gone. Besides, there's always Tommy's cottage."

"Charles," she said watching his eyes carefully, "would you really be ready to leave Downton?"

"No," he said thoughtfully, "but we made each other a promise, and we will keep it. I'm tired of hiding."

_~ECH~_

A few days later found Charles serving breakfast to the family once again. He was a little disgusted that this was the only task that Dr. Clarkson and Elsie would allow him. If he didn't know better he'd think they were conspiring against him. The man had said he had an anxiety attack. If that was all it was, then he should be able to do anything, he reasoned to himself and had tried to reason to Elsie. Not that the stubborn woman would listen to him. He didn't know why he expected any different. She hadn't listened to him for the past fourteen years of marriage. Why should she start now? At least she had agreed to the meeting with his Lordship after breakfast. This secret was wearing on him lately, and he was ready to take the consequences of bringing it into the open. He had gone over the finances repeatedly while he was stuck in his bedroom. Things would be tight, but with having Tommy's cottage, he was sure they could manage, and with all the young men off to war, he could probably find some type of work. He would miss Downton, though.

He was jerked rather forcefully out of his reverie by hearing Lady Edith bring up a new topic of conversation.

"I've heard that Lord Wentworth has hired a couple to serve as butler and Ladies' maid."

Lady Mary commented quickly enough that Charles wondered about possible collusion, "That certainly sounds like an excellent idea. It was hard to find good help before the war, now any incentive would help."

"I think it's terrible that we don't allow our servants the most basic rights," Lady Sybil joined in unhelpfully, "Everyone should be able to share their lives with whoever they want."

While Charles might agree with her in principle, that argument was not going to hold any water with her father, and he rather wished she'd kept it to herself. He held his breath for a moment waiting for his Lordship's comment, but fortunately Lady Edith jumped in to right the course of the conversation, "I don't know that we're really looking for a revolution, Sybil. I just thought that certainly if one had an excellent servant, like Mr. Carson or Mrs. Hughes for instance, it shouldn't matter if they were married."

Charles stiffened slightly beside the sideboard, and his breathing paused imperceptivity. The girls had most certainly planned this conversation. He hoped they wouldn't wreck his chances and wondered how much they knew.

Lord Grantham looked at each of his daughters in turn curiously before settling his gaze on Lady Edith. Glancing quickly over his shoulder at Charles, he lowered his voice, "Surely you don't mean to suggest that Carson would wish to marry Miss O'Brien."

Charles shuddered inwardly at the thought and was grateful that Elsie had not heard that comment.

"Of course not, Papa," Lady Mary answered for her sister with a roll of her eyes, "but perhaps there might be someone else."

Lady Sybil added in a low voice with a quick glance over her shoulder at Carson who stood with no indication that he'd heard a single word, "Would you really want to deny him happiness, especially now?"

Lord Grantham paused again and glanced over his shoulder at Charles. For the first time in his life, Charles' composure slipped, and he met his Lordship's gaze levelly as one man to another instead of butler to master for just a moment. He saw his eyes widen in understanding and then his Lordship gave the tiniest nod of his head before turning back to his breakfast.

Charles knew in that moment what the outcome of their meeting would be, and he felt a deep sense of relief and gratitude to the girls.

_**Reviews are welcome. Only one more chapter to go, and I promise to have it up within the week.**_


	24. Chapter 24

_**Finally, the last chapter of Childish Pranks. I am sorry for the delay. My computer has been very sick and had to be bleached to remove all viruses. I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for all the reviews and for sticking with the story this far. Another JF-like time jump here to about 1927 (ten years after Charles' collapse).**_

Charles opened the door of the cottage he'd shared with Elsie for the last ten years gingerly. If he was very lucky she would not have returned from the village yet.

He was not very lucky.

"Charles Carson, what on earth has happened to you? You're drenched to the skin! It's not raining, is it?"

He leaned heavily back against the door to try to remove his muddy boots without doing too much damage to the floors.

Elsie stepped closer to help steady him, and he sighed, "I fell in the stream," at her raised eyebrow, he defended himself, "That log is still very slippery."

"Are the boys all right?"

"Yes, yes, of course," he reassured her, "David sent me ahead to get dry as quickly as possible. He'll be here after he takes the boys back to the house."

She looked at him with a worried frown, "You should get out of those wet things immediately. I'll fetch you a warm towel."

He grinned at her wryly, "Mrs. Carson! You'll use any excuse to get me out of my shirt, won't you?"

There was a quick intake of breath in the kitchen followed by a soft giggle and Elsie's sharp, "Charles!"

Too late, he realized that his wife was not alone. He wondered briefly if he should just go hop back in the stream before addressing her companion with chagrin, "Good afternoon, Daisy. I'm sorry I didn't see you there, although I should have guessed from the delicious smells. Are you going to join us for tea?"

Elsie returned then with a towel and handed it to him, "You knew from the delicious smells? Are you implying that there wouldn't be delicious smells if I was the only one here?"

"Now, Elsie," he began placatingly as he dried his hair with the towel, "You're an excellent cook, but no one makes an apple tart like Daisy, and that is what I smell."

She sniffed at him, but softened it with a smile.

Deciding that now would be an excellent time for an exit, he said, "I'll just go change into some dry clothes." Then he added with a wink at Elsie, "I do hope you'll stay to tea, Daisy. Mr. Cauthon plans to join us once he's finished the boys' lesson."

Daisy's cheeks tinted faintly as she looked at the floor, "I may do just that Mr. Carson. I wouldn't mind seeing Dav-, I mean, Mr. Cauthon again. He's a pleasure to talk to."

Elsie rolled her eyes at his amused smile and all but shoved him into the bedroom.

"What was that all about? If you don't mind me asking."

"I don't mind," he answered with a grin as he removed his tie and began to unbutton his shirt.

She punched him lightly in the arm for his deliberate teasing and began to unbutton his waistcoat.

"Really, Charles, I don't know what you were thinking. A man your age could catch his death of cold getting this wet."

"A man my age!" he exclaimed, "You didn't think I was too old this morning," he pointed out as he caught her hands when they met his in unbuttoning his shirt.

"Well, you do tend to rise with the sun, now don't you?" she smiled up into his eyes.

He bent down to kiss her, drawing her tight against his chest for a long moment before pushing her quickly away, "Woman, don't be such a temptress when we're having guests to tea," he admonished softly.

"Perhaps you should rethink who's doing the tempting since there's only one of us still fully clothed."

He laughed and then heard the outer door open. She started out of the bedroom to greet her nephew, but he caught her hand to draw her back. He very much hoped that Davey had brought the items he'd been so desperate to procure for today and wanted to give Daisy and him plenty of time to arrange them.

"You should give them a few moments alone, dear wife," he whispered in an effort to prevent Elsie from entering the other room.

She quirked an eyebrow at him before walking to the wardrobe to fetch a clean shirt and trousers for him, "Do you know something that I don't, dear husband?"

"Well," he began teasingly slowly as he removed his wet, muddy trousers, "I did see a note that Davey received yesterday…"

He reached to take his trousers from her, but she held them just out of reach as hostage to further information.

He drew his eyebrows down to give him the sternest look he could manage standing in undershorts and undershirt, "Elsie…."

"You mentioned a note that Davey received?"

"It was from Mrs. M-A-S-E-N," he answered as he snatched the trousers from her hand with a satisfied grunt.

"He never!" she exclaimed.

He nodded emphatically as he drew his trousers on, "Addressed to Mr. C-O-T-H-A-N."

She laughed, "You've told those boys that story one too many times."

"Can I help it if Master Robert and Master William are quick studies and true romantics?" he asked innocently as he buttoned his shirt.

She smiled at him affectionately before stepping closer to drape his tie around his neck. Using his tie to pull him down for a soft kiss, she said, "I happen to know that Mrs. _Masen_ received a note yesterday as well."

"Now isn't that odd?" he asked shifting his shoulders slightly and placing his hands on her hips to steady her as she tied his tie, "From Mr. _Cothan_?"

She nodded and smoothed his tie. His arms slid around her waist to draw her closer, and he leaned down to nuzzle her neck, "Mmmmm, you smell delicious."

"Delicious?"

He nodded, "Like apple tart."

Lifting his head slightly he kissed her again, "You taste like apple tart as well. Let's see, if you smell like apple tart and taste like apple tart, then you must be…."

She placed the tips of her fingers over his lips quickly. "Let me stop you before you actually call your dear wife a tart," she said looking at him seriously.

"I was going to say baking," he said with a soft chuckle before placing another quick kiss on her lips, "Do you know what today is?"

"Dear husband," she sighed, "Do you think I could ever forget?"

"I'm so grateful you went on that picnic with me," he said as he wrapped his arms loosely around her waist and gazed down into her eyes.

"I suppose I did save you from the gaggle of giggling girls," she said stretching so that her arms would wrap around his neck.

"But you've been no protection whatsoever from the bevy of boisterous boys," he pointed out with a smile.

"I would hardly call two seven year old boys a 'bevy', Charles," she sighed in pleasure as his lips found the distracting spot behind her left ear.

"You've not taken them on a picnic with your nephew," he chuckled against her neck, "They certainly take after their mother. Plenty of spirit."

"You always appreciated that in Lady Mary," she admonished as she drew away, "Speaking of Davey…"

"David," he corrected with an upraised finger, "or Mr. Cauthon as long as he's tutoring the boys. Yes, I suppose we've given them enough time."

He opened the door to allow Elsie into the living area only to see David helping Daisy with her coat at the door.

Unless he was very much mistaken, Daisy's hair was mussed, and David was biting the inside of his jaw to avoid grinning like a besotted fool. It looked like the notes had had their desired effect.

"Uncle Charles, Aunt Elsie," David said quickly and a tiny smidgen guiltily, "Mrs. Mason has remembered something urgent she must do at Downton, and I've offered to walk her there. I wouldn't want her to come to any harm," he finished smiling at Daisy softly before taking her hand.

Daisy added without quite looking either of them in the eyes, "We're sorry to miss tea, but I'm sure you'll enjoy it without us," she finished with a sly smile.

Charles and Elsie nodded their good-byes, and the young couple departed quickly.

"Now what on earth could Daisy have that is so urgent with Lord and Lady Grantham away in London?" Charles asked smiling.

"It seems that Mr. _Cothan_ and Mrs. _Masen_ would rather be alone at the moment," she said wryly, then asked, "How long do you think it will be before we have grand-nieces and nephews to spoil?"

"Perhaps by this time next year," he said hopefully as he drew her toward the table to examine the fruits of this afternoon's labors.

She gasped in surprise to see the box of chocolates, the bouquet of Michaelmas daisies, and the large bowl of raspberries in the middle of the table, "How did those get there?"

"You underestimate me, dear wife," he said in satisfaction as he drew her back against his chest, "or rather you underestimate the bevy of boisterous boys who were perfectly happy to gather _Aster novae angliae _and _Rubus idaeus, _which I now know are the names of your two favorite things according to your too-smart nephew."

"Well, at least the bevy of boisterous boys did learn something while they were doing your work for you," she smiled.

"I'm just taking advantage of their romantic natures and excess of high spirits," he said defensively, "Now am I going to get my apple tart or not?"

"After you've eaten your chicken and carrots," she admonished.

"So you did remember," he said in appreciation before drawing her back toward the bedroom, "I believe that I'd like to have my dessert now and eat later to rebuild my strength."

"Charles, the chicken will be dry and the carrots will be burned if we don't eat now," she argued half-heartedly as she followed him toward the bedroom.

"Mmmm, I like my chicken chewy and my carrots with a little black on them, but not as much as I like a wife who tastes like apple tart," he said smiling as he drew her close for a long tender kiss.

"Charles," she asked as she pulled back just a little, "have you been happy? Have you had a good life?"

"Elsie, love, I couldn't imagine being happier," he said, and she placed her feet on his so that she could stretch up to kiss him hungrily.

"Then we'll have our dessert now and chewy chicken later," she said smiling against his lips.

"And chocolate," he said.

She nodded in agreement, "With nuts."

**The End**

_**Again, I thank you so much for sticking with this story and reading it to the end. I've loved living in my little AU for the last little while and hope you enjoyed it as well. As always, reviews are welcome and feed my addiction.**_


End file.
